Potter the Squib
by Judah
Summary: What does it mean to be Harry Potter? What does it mean to be a Dark Lord? What if Voldemort's killing curse did more than leave a scar? A different take on the underside of the Wizarding World. [AU][PotterXFemale][No yaoi]
1. Chapter 1

Potter the Squib 

---------------

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter and all associated rights and merchandising labels are property of JK Rowling, her associated publishing houses, and their affiliates. If you enjoy this, buy the Harry Potters books and movies. This is a non-profit work distributed for fan enjoyment. If anyone official wishes this gone, I will remove it. This disclaimer is valid for all chapters of this work and will not be repeated.

**Obligatory warnings**: spoilers for HP books one through six. Background knowledge of novels essential, author doesn't provide extraneous setting details. Mild language but nothing beyond T rating. Female OCs dating (humor) sideplot, nothing explicit, and note author hates yaoi.

----------------------

"An owl?" Petunia was shocked as she waited for her breakfast. She knew Lily's child had no magic power. She'd insisted on the tests before she took him in. Her nephew's uncelebrated eleventh birthday was around this time. No good could come of the owl at the window.

"Hey trash! Hurry with the food." In this world Dudders was still the cruel elephant boy, but his mean streak had been tempered. Harry did most of the chores, but Dudley had a few too. Petunia wasn't above shifting the workload onto her son if Harry was hurt. Dudley wasn't allowed to bully Harry in the house, and didn't have a second bedroom. Petunia often lamented her real son's grades were worse than her sister's child, and told him 'don't be third class, study like Harry.'

"It'll be done in two minutes cousin, try not to eat your lips in the meanwhile."

Harry Potter was frailer than normal, but better fed. His adoptive parents were extra strict on him for being an unwanted burden, but nowhere near the abuse they'd heap on a freak. They even drove him to libraries on weekends, and instilled a sense of morality in him. Last year he'd made Vernon pull over and call the paramedics for some poor girl on a crashed Vespa motor scooter. The Dursleys were proud of him for that, and had won a mention as upstanding members of the community. The framed newspaper page hung on the hallway outside Harry's room.

Vernon smiled at the insult to Dudley. He accepted more cheek from a non-magical nephew, whom he recognized didn't get on with his son. In fact, he'd tried to teach Harry to stand up for himself, through his hands-off 'let the boys thrash it out themselves' parenting policy. This hadn't worked out too well, as it resulted in Harry being too stupid to run away sometimes.

Harry had a slight limp in his right leg, which healed badly after being broken, and his twice-busted nose was crooked. Dudley and gang periodically succeeded in Harry-hunting outside school, and he had no accidental magic to escape with. Because of this, Harry Potter rarely left the house, and became a schoolteacher's pet. In short, Harry was a green-eyed, lightning-bolt scarred, out of shape nerd. At least he wasn't fat too.

Like other Harry Potters, his life changed that day. Not even Dursleys who cared for Harry could stop Dumbledore's plans for their ward. Dudley still got tail of pig. His adoptive parents, who stood up for him, only got a sleep spell from a tearful Hagrid's pink umbrella. Before Hagrid left, though, he had an additional task.

"Now 'arry, stop hiding under the table, I'll just be lifting it off of you again. It wouldn't be roight if I ad to stun the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Kidnapper! Freak drug addict! Stay away from me."

A merry chase ensued, resulting in the furniture at the cabin away from home where the Dursleys had hidden becoming completely trashed. Finally, Hagrid caught Harry with a meaty hand.

"I'm roight sorry about this 'arry, but I can't let you bite me again and you gotta drink this." It took a great deal of skill to force the potion down the throat of the struggling child, but Hagrid dealt with more feral and dangerous magical creatures. It was done.

"That tasted worse than shite, you evil giant. Are you gonna take me to the clouds and bake pies from my bones now?" It tasted that bad. Dudley had forced him to eat dog shite, cat shite, and horse apples over their formative years.

The last thing Harry expected was the evil kidnapper to break into tears. He found himself stuffed under a rancid cloak, and extremely dizzy as weird sensations hammered into his brain. The large man walked through what looked like a seedy bar, from limited glimpse the boy got through a tear in the clothing.

Soon Harry was imprisoned, and the door locked behind him.

After fifteen minutes, he gave up banging on the door of the room above the Leaky Cauldron and had screamed himself hoarse. Hagrid said something about losing his nerve before he tossed Harry gently onto the bed and left. Now he worked on picking the lock with a random paper clip he'd found in his pocket. Harry didn't know silencing and locking charms made his efforts futile.

Four hours later one of the most evil villains Harry had ever seen opened the door. The greasy man unerringly located Harry's presence in the cupboard below the bathroom sink. With mere words, he paralyzed the frightened boy, opened his mouth, and forced another worse-than-shite substance down his throat.

"My name is Severus Snape. If you don't behave, I really will dine on your bones. You will do exactly as I say, or you will regret it for the rest of your miserable short squibby life. Blink once and live to see another day."

Harry blinked.

"I already have purchased your school books and materials, but you need a wand and robes." The evil man said something in latin, and nodded. "I'll send your measurements over to Madam Malkins while Ollivander babysits your wand hunting. Please, try to run."

Harry shivered, that sadistic bastard wanted to kill him. He could tell. Right now he was hoping for a clean death free of pedophilia. This guy seemed the type. He didn't say anything as a black woolen cap was thrust over his head, hiding his scarred forehead.

He followed his captor into a strange place that he might have found wondrous if he wasn't afraid. They walked into a huge building with scary creatures. They were goblins, and the evil man smiled as he took a drop of blood to assure his reimbursement. Whatever that meant.

Next they went to Ollivander's, and Harry received no help there. The old dangerous man in charge of the store looked at him like he was scum. He'd seen the look in Dudder's face enough to know it.

"Severus, the boy needs a third power potion if he's to have a hope of activating even a pixie pile."

Five minutes and twenty dire threats later, Harry drank another vile potion of his own will. Both men laughed at the expression on his face as it went down.

The gothic man who Harry had no doubt enjoyed slitting people's throats left. Why else would he be nicknamed Severus? The other scary man looked at him with great distaste.

"Mr. Potter I do not approve of trying to artificially build a magic core out of dead wizarding powers. However, I have been convinced this is for the greater good. Now I want you wave each of these wands in the air and see if we can get a reaction."

The scared boy nodded. He didn't want to die.

"Try this, five inches, Devil Fruit branch with House-Elf spine." Harry waved it and nothing happened. The man snatched it back, and gave him another.

"Six inches, Rowan with ground Narwhal whiskers?" Nothing.

"Seven inches, Ebony infused with Boggart ashes." Nothing.

This continued for some time until Ollivander glared at something behind Harry. Startled, the boy turned around to see the evil throat slitter had returned.

"Dumbledore knew it would come to this." The wand maker sounded furious. "That prototype shouldn't be in the world. It can make a muggle into a wizard-king! If it fell into the wrong hands, the consequences would be devastating."

"Even so, you are not allowed to let a magical customer leave without a wand. It's your geas." Severus sneered at his upset colleague.

Ollivander disappeared into his back room, coming out with a glittering metal box. He spoke latin words over it, and it opened. Harry looked inside, but nothing was there. The wand-maker unwrapped an invisible cloth from another, small box, and it unlocked as well. A green-red plaid bean spilled out.

"No other way." The shopkeeper sounded like he was convincing himself. He held up the magic bean and intoned "_Portus Tyrannicus_." Another locked box appeared in his hand with a loud popping sound. This strange object appeared to warp space around it. Harry knew it was a squared box, but it had no corners.

Ollivander opened the box by tapping it ten random spots that Harry saw no order to. Before reaching inside, he put not one, but three pairs of gloves on his right hand. Still he flinched when taking out the object.

"Three inches, living heartwood from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden, a mere sheath for the malfeasance of Pandora. Unbreakable by man or demon, living or dead." Then he passed the innocent brown twig over to Harry, who couldn't tell it apart from any other stick in Little-Whinging's kiddie park.

Harry waved it. A small, sad yellow spark came out of the tip and floated out. The ember faded into ash before it hit the floor.

"That will be five hundred thousand galleons, an unbreakable waver signed in blood to never give it away, and the word of Dumbledore that it will be returned when Potter dies. Oh, and you'll be partially obliviated Severus; this wand will be placed in a longer false wand to disguise its nature. Holly, thirteen inches should do fine. We can pretend it's the brother to You-Know-Who's."

"Potter can pay." Severus held up a Gringott's bank card. "I agree to the terms."

As they left, Ollivander spoke one last warning to Harry. "I expect nothing but ruin from this, boy. Prove me wrong."

-------------

AN: Changed 7/4. Estimated length now approx 65K words. Estimated chapters 12, though postings will be between 2k-3k words and chapters may be broken up. May make slight grammar edits when uploading new chapters. Looking forward to feedback, I'm especially interested in improving my writing. Posting speed depends in part on received FB.

If you see a grammar mistake in the story _anywhere_, please leave it in a review. I'll fix it. Every bit helps.


	2. Chapter 2

Wild Express 

------------

After a miserable night, the old scary man hustled Harry out of his dive-like room above the Leaky Cauldron. The same black woolen cap thrust over his head kept his scar hidden. It smelled of his stale fear-sweat leftover from yesterday's ordeal. This day felt like a scorcher, and Harry really wanted to dump the confining hat.

He was too afraid of Severus to do so. The man had given him another shite-potion for breakfast, and forced him to drink. He'd tried spitting it out on the floor, but the liquid got magiced back into mouth. Harry was forced to swallow the vile stuff with an added layer of floor grime. He'd started to hurl, but his tormentor warned that he'd be forced to swallow back whatever came up.

Harry found out the hard way Snape didn't lie. Still nauseous, he plodded behind the man on pain of death. Whatever wonders Diagon Alley offered, he didn't notice. Instead Harry concentrated on how clean the cobblestones were, and how Snape's black shoes made no noise when he walked over them.

They went to the London train station, and stopped before a brick wall. Harry felt his life pass before his eyes as the man picked him up by the scruff of his back shirt collar, and shoved his face straight at the bricks. An invisible wave broke over his forehead, it wasn't water or sound, yet he somehow felt it.

Rather than brains over concrete, Harry Potter found himself shoved again into the middle of platform nine and three quarters. An old-fashioned passenger train with the name _Hogwarts Express_ painted across the engine car was the center of a crowd. The bustle of anxious parents looked and waved at the non-regulation magical train, which was nearly set to leave.

Severus stopped long enough to sneer in loathing at the Weasley clan. Their children, like most others, had already boarded the train, so Molly Weasley thrust out her tongue and flipped him the bird. Arthur put his hand on her shoulder to lend support, though a random bystander might mistake his gesture to mean he was holding her from attacking.

Snape smacked Harry on the back of his head. "Get on the train boy. Your things are at the school. Don't take off that hat until you have to put another hat on. The consequences will be severe if you disobey." Severus reinforced this with a firm throat-slitting finger violently raked along Harry's neck. It left a raised red scratch that would disappear in ten minutes.

The boy gulped and walked up the stairs into train. He glanced back and watched the man he loathed and feared talking to a blond man and his blond son. All of them looked like reanimated zombies in their robes.

Not meeting a conductor and only wanting a quiet place to cower, Harry started looking into the train compartments. If he wasn't so driven, he might have noticed how the train lacked the old spat out gum and cigarette buts common in the non-magical variety. He might have noticed all the rooms were semi-private; there was no public seating area for 'lower' class passengers.

The compartments were filled with laughing older children, half of which told the stupid firstie to get lost. The other half had no room for another person. He felt the train start moving as he continued walking down the aisle, but surprisingly it didn't even jolt him. Harry realized he felt it with the same strange sense being rammed through the fake brick triggered.

His attention on this new way of perceiving, Harry was tackled. His head hit the wooden floor with a thump, and his vision unfocused. Being unprepared for the contact, he didn't properly break his fall.

"Oh, so sorry! Have you seen a toad? I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom. I can't find Trevor, my toad." Harry gave the other boy a look of incomprehension. Now that he thought about it, the kid resembled a toad with his jumpy attitude and unattractive face. Still, he couldn't believe this insincere fool's excuse for hurting him. Neville helped Harry back up to his feet, before running off again. Choked laughter from the compartment off to the right confirmed in Harry's mind he'd been set up.

"I don't like him." Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his skull. A lump was coming up. When he struggled back to his feet and started moving again, the limp in his right leg was worse.

Deciding to hell with this, Harry went all the way to the end of the train and found the large baggage holding area. He opened the door marked 'Authorized Wizards Only,' and shut it behind him, enjoying the comfort of a space that was his own. The light was dim, and trunks and luggage were stacked haphazardly on top of each other in rows. Some looked precarious balanced, but even when Harry accidentally bumped into one such arrangement, it didn't fall. 'Must be magic,' he thought. In short, the perfect place for a nap. Sighing, Harry selected a large brown trunk mostly veiled in darkness, sitting at the end of row without additional luggage stacked on top, and prepared to relax. He mounted. With distaste, he felt a wet clammy feeling spread across the seat of his pants.

"Gyaahhh!" He jumped up in shock.

The guts of a dead, squished toad spread over the top of the trunk he'd chosen to sit on. 'So much for poor Trevor.' Thought Harry, as brushed toad intestines off the back of his pants. A banging on the door made him freeze.

"Manny! We knows you're hiding in there. We hears you." A voice filled with anticipated cruelty boomed through the baggage area. Harry paused with his hands full of toad guts, but decided it didn't concern him.

"Poor little bird, too bad you didn't die when the your muggle toy exploded. Mudblood witches who like other witches shouldn't disgrace the noble house of Slytherin. If we catch you little bird, you won't be graduating this year either."

Feeling a strong inclination to hide, Harry decided he'd had enough. He walked over to the compartment door, and opened it. A red beam sizzled over his head, into the baggage area. It blackened the side of a maple trunk.

"Aw, it's just a disgusting firstie," said one older black robed teenage boy to another. They all had elegantly carved batons in their hands, pointed into the baggage area. They looked to be in their last year of schooling, according to Harry's well-developed sense of bully age.

"Wands down men. We'll resume the hunt after the feast."

"Wait, my lord," said a henchman to the alpha bully. "Why's this firstie got entrails on his hands?"

"Good question McGurdy." The tallest boy glared down at Harry. "Speak up boy! You sacrificing things to the Dark Arts?"

Staring defiantly at the evil brown-haired black-robed teenager, who towered over him by at least two feet, Harry sneered, "What if I am?"

"Be more discrete, lad." The lead bully winked. "I wanted to kill that annoying kid's toad too, but smearing the evidence all round isn't classy. _Scroungify_!" The older boy waved his wand over Harry's head, and the toad guts disappeared.

"Let's go you lot. We'll probably see this one in Slytherin after the feast." Nodding, the minions shuffled off after their boss. "Better put your robes on kid." Said McGurdy as they left.

Opening the door, and retreating into the baggage area, Harry knew he wanted to avoid Slytherin at all costs. Whatever Slytherin was.

Harry carefully looked before he sat this time, and was reward by not slaying another familiar. Gratefully, he settled his butt onto a fine mahogany trunk. It was at the end of the second row; Harry wasn't sure how many rows there were. The space inside the baggage area warped, as if the volume had increased in another direction somehow. Ignoring the metaphysical, he propped his feet against a taped cardboard box, leaned his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. His rest lasted for thirty blissful seconds.

Heat made him open his eyes. An intimidating black-robed woman held an ugly gnarled stick near his face with a large ball of fire floating in air at its tip. She stood very close to six feet tall. Her blonde hair was chopped unattractively short in a military style, and her right check was disfigured by a crosshatch pattern of jagged healed scars, like she'd face-slid along asphalt laced with pebbles of broken glass.

"Answer truthfully, or die." Snarled the psycho. "You in league with those bloody arseholes?"

"No ma'am." Said Harry. His voice squeaked.

"You sacrifice that dumbass kid's toad in a profane ritual?" The fireball loomed closer, and Harry swore his eyebrows started smoldering.

"I sat on him by accident! Don't kill me!" He cringed from the flames.

The scary woman sighed, and turned off the heat. She looked at him, appraising.

"So what's your name kid? It looks like I owe you one, and I pay my debts."

"Harry Potter, though I'd prefer it be changed to Harry Dursley. My Aunt tried her best, but somehow the government won't grant permission until I reach my age of majority."

The blond witch looked shell-shocked. Then her expression became determined. Before Harry realized it, she'd yanked off his cap and parted his hair around the scar. Her fingers danced along the lightning bolt, and he felt a tingle.

"Hey!" Harry didn't much enjoy the invasion of his personal space, and noted the witch in front of him smelled like machine oil. "An evil strangler told me not to take that off."

Amused, the blonde shoved the hat down over his eyes. Harry fixed it and glared. She met his stare with cold gray eyes.

"His name is Severus Snape." Harry said. When the teenage witch in front of him only smiled, he added, "Who are you anyway?"

The girl laughed. "You don't even know what being Harry Potter means, do you? Your Aunt who raised you, I bet she wasn't even magical."

"So? You still haven't given me a name." Harry said.

"I'm Amanda Hawking, seventh year Slytherin thug for hire. My parent's weren't magical, so I'm what my housemates like to refer to as a filthy mudblood. The Sorting Hat warned me I'd hate my house because I had no subtlety, but my thirst for power and recognition left it with no other choice. Bloody thing was right."

"Slytherin? Sorting Hat? What are those?" Harry asked, his hunger for knowledge awakened.

"They really left you in the dark, didn't they. Answer a question for me Harry: are you related to the Vernon Dursley who saved a girl last year? Her motor scooter blew up from a magical time bomb."

"It was around Bath, wasn't it? My Uncle made her comfortable while I ran and called the paramedics."

He still remembered asking Uncle Vernon to pull over that weekend, because the bleeding animal crawling down the roadside ditch looked like a person. With a curse, the older man took his eyes off the pavement and stomped the breaks. He'd yelled at his nephew to call for help, and ran to the rescue. Sprinting to a police box, Harry had remained calm under pressure, explaining exactly why an ambulance was needed.

"That was me." Amanda said. "I guess I owe more than I expected."

"But, we called the hospital. They said you'd never walk again!" And refused to release the patient's name to non-relatives, but that wasn't important now.

The blonde absently ran two fingers over her scarred cheek. "If I wasn't a witch, that would've been true. It took me six months to regain the use of my arms and hands well enough to use my wand again. After that, it was only a simple matter to heal myself. My enemies succeeded though. I didn't graduate last year, missed my NEWTs and half a year of classes. I chose to keep my face like this as a reminder to myself."

Harry looked at her like it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"Yeah kid, I know it wasn't very smart. This scar, its part of my identity now. A lot like that lightning bolt should remind you of your parents. It means I'm a tough bint who won't let anyone intimidate me. Plus it attracts the type of woman I like."

"I don't understand." Said Harry. "Why should my scar remind me of my parents, and why would you want other women to notice you?"

"Harry Potter, you don't know anything about the wizarding world at all, do you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Harry waved his arms in exasperation, not understanding why Amanda knew more about being Harry Potter than he did.

"Before I begin explaining, let me tell you something important. I'll be nineteen this April. I repeated my fifth year when five Slytherin girls trapped me in the Forbidden Forest and I didn't show up for my Ordinary Wizarding Level Exams. That means I'm a ninth year student, with the extra knowledge and experience behind it. Headmaster Dumbledore couldn't punish those witches because their daddies are on the Board of Governors. What he could do was give a full ride to Hogwarts, until my seventh year education was done. It's up to me to protect myself, and I'm still here."

Harry looked like he wanted to speak, but Amanda snarled and he physically jerked back, shut up, and listened.

"My non-magical parents are divorced, and my Dad is in the Navy, overseas. My Mom moved to America, and never writes. I'm twice over a pariah, once for not coming from a magic family, and twice for being a girl who likes other girls. I have no money or power, and no patron. Even the good guys can't help me because it's not worth stepping on some stuffed shirt's sensibilities."

Amanda stopped her monologue and pointed at Harry's chest. "You could be my out!" She shouted.

"What?" Harry said.

"Your parents were rich in the magical world. Your fame is legendary. If I somehow attached myself to you, I could siphon power and influence. It would be the easiest thing in the world. The fact is kid, you need my help, and I want to help you. Being up front about my dreams may be against the spirit of my house, but it's how I operate. Plus, without you and your Uncle working together, I'd be dead."

Amanda Hawking started pacing across the cramped aisle of the baggage compartment, as if wrestling with her conscience. Balls of blue and purple light flickered into existence, lighting up dozens of trunks. One or two appeared marvelous with wooden carvings of dragons and gryphons that twisted and moved. The rest looked like they could have come from the storage area underneath the Dursley's stairs.

Sure she'd almost fried him, but by far Amanda was the most kind and stable magical person Harry had met. He felt deep down, that if she gave her loyalty, it would be without boundaries. Whatever magical money she might demand from his magic fortune, still an abstract concept, would be a pittance. She impressed him as one of those people who was too proud to gracefully accept charity. A lot like his Aunt Petunia.

"Miss Hawking." Harry broke the tension. "I'll make it official for both us. Be my bodyguard. Protect me. I don't care if you use me for a leg up, as long as you faithfully shield me from harm."

Amanda looked delighted and surprised, not realizing she'd been the only kindness Harry had encountered in days of torment. He pretended not to notice the small tear she brushed from her eye.

She told him about the four houses of their school, the legend of his parent's death defeating the dark lord Voldemort, and explained the uses of wands. When it became apparent he had no robes to put on, she transfigured a set of her spares into his size.

Amanda's support and forthrightness finally convinced Harry. His bodyguard only knew he'd had a bad couple days, not that he'd been kidnapped and exposed to dark magic. When he tried speaking of specific details, some power that sent his new sense tingling along his scar prevented the words from coming out. Amanda just gave him space and tried to be cheerful. She wasn't good at it.

Harry accepted he had no chance of escaping from Hogwarts. Even if he ran, the evil men who captured him were tenured professors of_ magic_. Locating him would be child's play. Plus they could always threaten his family again.

Harry asked questions, rapidly absorbing information like the school nerd he'd become. Before they knew it, the train stopped, and Amanda snuck them off. She slipped him an enchanted parchment. What one person wrote appeared on both scrolls.

"I'll buy another if I find a special girlfriend this year. Good thing I came prepared." Amanda pointed him to where the bearded giant man who'd captured him a few days ago was yelling for first years. She stiffened in surprise when Harry hugged her before joining his future classmates.

The huge man broke into a tearful apology as soon as he saw Harry, and suddenly the poor boy found himself the center of a great deal of attention and curiosity. Exactly the last thing he wanted to deal with. Plus those fanged black vampire-horses looked hungry.

--------------

AN: Please leave me feedback. Thanks! Oh, and if this work appears angst-dark or slow, that will change soon. This _is_ an action/adventure story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Balls**

--------

Harry did his best to ignore the muttering and stares of his fellow first year students. He managed to take a different boat than Hargrid, but somehow got stuck sitting near Neville Longbottom. His awkward nervousness at toad flattening and the odd disturbing vibes of the black vampire horses went away when the other boy threw up on him.

The Patil twins made exclamations of being grossed out, then laughed. Harry wanted to brush his robes off, but it also meant touching Longbottom's vomit. He finally settled on looking put-upon as they drifted up to the castle.

'Come on.' Thought Harry, 'It's only a short trip across a land bound lake, no way that git could have sea sickness now. Just when I'd started feel sorry for him, he sets me up again.'

When they arrived, the evil Snape dragged Harry off to the side and forced him to change out of his vomit stained robes. Surprisingly, Madam Malkin's custom black robe fit wonderfully, and it was even silk. Severus told Harry the rest of his school uniforms and things would await him in whatever sorry house the Hat stuck him in. Then with a shove, he pushed Harry into the great hall. Just in time for a lame sorting song.

Everything made a lot more sense thanks to Amanda's explanations, and Harry wasn't mystified. Instead he was awed by the saturation of magic, and couldn't believe how the ceiling resembled the night sky. He took in the details of the room -- the strange translucent ghosts, ever-burning candles, and old-fashioned clothing worn by the moving portraits. Then a hated name brought his attention back.

"Longbottom, Neville." Pause. "Gryffindor." Shook Harry out of his contemplation. Before he knew it, his turn arrived.

"Potter, Harry." A greater commotion of voices broke across the hall than had happened for the other first years. He took the long walk down the middle row of filled oak tables and sat in the Sorting Hat's throne-like chair. As threatened, he himself removed Snape's black felt hat before putting on the magic cap. A third year yelled, 'It is him, I see the scar!' It spread like wildfire, up and down the student's tables.

Then Harry heard the expected voice in his mind. More of a shout, really.

"In the name of Godric, what did they do to you!" Harry winced. The Sorting Hat had quite the mental overtone. Resonant.

"I wasn't too pleased with it either." Said Harry inside his own head. "Now please don't put me near that strangler Snape or close to that idiot prankster Longbottom."

"Mr. Potter, where you are sorted is the least concern of mine right now. Creating an artificial magical core from the remaining powers of dead wizarding folk is a treasonous crime." Said the Sorting Hat.

"Can you arrest the bastards, bring them to justice?" Harry asked, daring to hope he might return to his beloved family.

"Well no." Admitted the Hat. "I've been screaming accusations of these heinous crimes across the great hall, but my voice has been stifled. Mr. Potter, I will do all in my power to help, but I'm afraid that will be limited to giving Albus Dumbledore a stern lecture, and putting you where you want to go. If you had actual magic power, you could have been great. As it is, try not to be held back a year."

"RAVENCLAW!" Said the Sorting Hat, across the Great Hall. It echoed. Frustrated at being unable to help Harry more, the relic settled on extra volume.

Enthusiastic clapping and a single whistle came from a table decorated in blue and bronze. Everyone looked at the girl who whistled. Cho-Chang blushed. A bunch of red-haired people at the Gryffindor table watched sadly as room was made under the Ravenclaw's eagle banner for Harry. He sat down between Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst. Soon enough Lisa Turpin, the last Ravenclaw first year, joined them.

After the feast began, their head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick introduced himself and their house ghost, the Gray Lady. Both of them were delighted at having so many students this year, and Harry got the impression Ravenclaw was the smallest of the houses.

This was confirmed when Harry received a room to himself in the Ravenclaw tower. He didn't understand how the magic worked, but thanks to Rowena Ravenclaw's mastery of space-time, every student in her house received a small dorm room for his or her own. So what if the volume of student rooms took up more space than was in the tower? Harry was beginning to believe magic could be wonderful.

As promised, his books, robes, and supplies awaited him in his room. Perhaps if he wasn't so tired he might have gotten to know his housemates a bit better. Exhausted and full of good supper after being starved and terrified for two days, Harry slept.

Morning came, and the first fledglings were massaged into order by a female prefect. She showed Harry where the boy's communal showers were. An enchantment was in place preventing a girl from going into a boy's room (and washroom area) and vice versa, but Ravenclaw had plenty of open study areas in the tower.

He found himself in the large public room, sitting next to Terry Boot. The other kid seemed excited about meeting the Boy-Who-Lived until Terry realized how magically powerful Harry was.

"But I thought the person who defeated You-Know-Who would be a master of defense, a power of legend." Said Terry, sounding betrayed. "You don't even know a single spell, and have no magic signature. I know you're not hiding it, I've been trained to see that."

"Maybe it took all my powers to defeat this Dark Lord?" Said Harry.

"You did a great thing Harry, and you have my gratitude." Terry said, serious and formal. "My parents have drilled into me what type of magic level my school friends should have though, so we can never be more than acquaintances."

Terry Boot left to talk up Lisa Turpin, who had just came down. She turned out to be terminally shy and barely said anything. Harry, who noticed this, sighed. His inner nerd understood that girl would be the worst partner to have in group assignments.

Orientation proceeded. Mandy Brocklehurst was too intimidated by his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived to come near him. She blushed and ran off when he tried to introduce himself. He saw Terry Boot talk to her during Charms class, and afterwards she avoided him completely.

Flying lessons with Madam Hooch came next. The Hufflepuffs shared with the Ravenclaws. Since they were the largest and smallest houses, it worked out. The witch went over how to use a broom and told the first years to practice.

At the end of the session, Harry could barely get his broom to rise, much less take it for a spin. He found this pretty embarrassing. The Hufflepuffs found it amusing, and Harry realized he'd be making no friends there either.

Madam Hooch was concerned Harry couldn't get the hang of it, so she made him stay for the next flying session too, while his classmates went off to lunch. This one was a joint Slytherin and Gryffindor exercise. At Harry's insistence, Madam Hooch was kind enough to use a notice-me-not type charm on him, so the other first years wouldn't bother Harry as he continued to practice.

Before leaving on an errand, Madam Hooch beamed at him for finally getting the broom to jump up to his hand. She encouraged him to try floating, but not higher than ten feet. Harry walked over to a nearby tower wall to practice. If the broom failed, he could always grab a window ledge to prevent his skull from cracking open like a breakfast egg.

Harry practiced, and found it exhausting just to stay on the broom and not injure himself. This disappointed him. He wanted to do magnificent loops and spins across the sky, but his magic could barely connect to the battered school broom. He figured it would take a broom made of special magic materials to allow him the flight he yearned for.

A rain of orange and red glass shards disrupted his concentration, and after a terrifying second of freefall and vertigo, Harry made an adequate landing near the base of his safety tower. He found every one of the Gryffindors and Slytherins looking at him. Somehow the not-notice spell failed.

"Malfoy you prat!" Wailed Neville Longbottom. "My Aunt gave me that remembrall."

"Why didn't you catch it?" Asked a girl he'd later find out was Hermoine Granger. "You were right next to it."

Longbottom pranking him again somehow, groaned Harry inside. He hated that kid.

"Yeah mate, why didn't you?" Asked a stupid looking red-haired kid. He'd later know him as Ron Weasley. "Your dad was great at Quidditch. His son should've made that catch, easy-peasy."

Now Harry began to get a little angry. That insensitive moron should leave his deceased parents out of this. Harry didn't notice a pale blond and his two lackeys walking towards him.

"Longbottom you manipulative prankster, this is all your fault." Harry snarled. "You knock me down on the train, set me up to ruin my pants by squishing that huge diseased toad, and then vomited all over me right before the feast. If you hate me that much, let's have it out, right here, right now!"

"Oh my god!" The shocked horror flowed over Neville's face. "You killed Trevor, you bastard!" Longbottom charged the Boy-Who-Lived in blind rage.

He bounced off Goyle. Crabbe kicked him while he was down, and the fight started up.

"Wow, you're wonderful." Said the blonde kid, Draco Malfoy. "I thought busting that stupid remembrall would make him cry, but this. This is more than I could have hoped for." The boy laughed. His minions laughed too before Ron Weasley and another first year Gryffindor tackled them down.

Neville lunged at Harry with a vicious yet clumsy rising uppercut. With long practice fighting bullies, Harry dodged, and Longbottom unbalanced and fell wrong. His foot twisted underneath him.

"I won't forgive you, Harry Potter." Said Neville, as he held his left ankle in pain. Draco Malfoy took this opportunity to rub his face in the dirt by using Neville's large protruding ears as handles. Harry thought it made Longbottom look more toad-like, if that was possible.

"That's enough!' Shrieked Madam Hooch across the area. A mass paralysis spell froze all students. "I should have known better than to leave the first years alone, even for five minutes." She muttered to herself.

Harry didn't get in trouble. Neville had a broken ankle (hairline fracture) that was fixed overnight. Draco Malfoy received a week of detention. House points were taken too, but Harry didn't think that to be important. He felt little connection with others in his house.

Michael Connor and Cho Chang cornered Harry in the Ravenclaw common room after classes that day. Harry had enjoyed Herbology and could live with the lecture-based History of Magic. Charms didn't look too bad, since Flitwick went easy on his own Ravenclaws. Quidditch was on the older student's brains, as both were on the Ravenclaw team. They seemed disappointed Harry didn't go for sports, but he promised to watch a game once to promote house spirit.

He went to bed early feeling extremely tired. When Madam Pomfrey checked him out after the fight, she'd told him he was magically exhausted and to rest. He wrote a quick note to Amanda about his day and then slept.

Potions with Snape turned nightmarish. The man asked Harry questions he couldn't possibly know, then berated Harry for not returning his black cap while deducting points from Ravenclaw. At least he was impartially mean, except to the Slytherins.

When Harry tried to denounce the man as a murderer for stealing the energy of dead wizards and forcing dark concoctions down his throat, he couldn't get the words out. In fact, he looked rather like a fish. Mandy Brocklehurst elbowed him for making faces and hissed at him to pay attention.

The only good thing about Snape was he hated Neville Longbottom too. The man liked theatrics and gestured and pointed a lot during his deliberately uncommunicative lectures. Students were forced into questions so Snape could show how stupid they were. Harry couldn't help thinking of those expressive darting hands looping a thin garrote wire around an old grandmother's neck, as Severus the strangler ended her life.

When the class finished, Mandy said something that put his hackles up. "It's strange, the potions on this list aren't the typical first year's. Sure they have the right complexity levels, but all of them require a direct infusion of magic from a wand."

His fellow housemate looked at him strangely when he groaned. Harry knew he'd be magically exhausting his puny stolen magic often in the years ahead. It made him feel like shite. He barely managed to duck away from the friendly Draco Malfoy in time.

A message from Amanda was waiting for Harry that night on his communication scroll. He knew at least, he had one friend in this awful school.

"Good new, Harry! My noteworthy enemies have graduated, and I found it easy to browbeat my fellow Slytherins into submission. I did this by proclaiming myself the next Dark Lord and blasting away that group of prats who tried bothering me on the train. They'll be out of the hospital wing in a month or so. I spread around that I'm not recruiting and don't want publicity, and to leave me alone. May have went a bit overboard, but I'm never had a light touch. Now I'm going looking for a girlfriend. Keep me informed."

Harry sighed, and hoped Amanda knew what she was doing. From what little he understood about the magical community, dark lords were like nuclear capable terrorists. Boogeymen everyone was scared of. As a magical outsider, Harry didn't think it was big deal, but he expected some huge backlash from this.

As it turned out, he was right.

---------


	4. Chapter 4 Part I

Memory Snitching  Part I 

---------------------

The teacher's meeting of Hogwarts staff proceeded. Binns, Hagrid, and Dumbledore were absent. Having a meeting of this type was a little unusual, but not unprecedented. Madam Rosemerta finished up her discussion of the Slytherin-Gryffindor first year's free-for-all, and Cassandra Trelawney predicted the untimely deaths of half the staff as part of the usual meeting opener.

Seated at a large round table with two pitchers of freshly brewed iced tea in the middle, the staff tried to look interested. Blackberry crumpets and frosted scones were readily available, and some professors had already eaten four. A parade of yawns flicked across the room, as having an early staff meeting on a Wednesday morning before classes was unusual. The headmaster did set the schedule for it, though.

"Next discussion involves the Dark Lord Amanda Hawking. Is she a serious future threat or joking in bad taste?" Said Vector, the duly elected facilitator.

"She shouldn't be taken seriously," Said Flitwick with dismissal, "no future Dark Lord could conquer after having failed their Charms OWL." The tiny professor never considered Amanda's enemies might have bribed or blackmailed low marks into her examiners.

"It was a bold intimidation move to make the other Slytherins leave her alone. It is technically her ninth year here, even if she's only had the benefit of about eight years worth of classes." Snape sneered, undisturbed about insulting one of his own. "Ultimately, Miss Hawking is little more than a street brawler with magic."

"Still, she is in your house Severus." Said Professor Sinestra, who'd lost family to Voldemort's reign of terror. "Inform her this was in poor taste, and the gravity of what may happen if people begin taking her seriously."

"I will." Lied Snape. "Whatever I may say will do no good, Miss Hawking is too aggressive and blunt to understand the consequences of her actions."

"She's always been nice to me, if average in class." Minerva McGonnal chimed in. "I asked her about it, and she seemed a bit embarrassed. Assured me whatever the rumors said, she wanted an education without making trouble."

"She is competent in my area, but not the next Dark Lord." Said Professor Quirrell in a meek voice.

Snape smiled in anticipation. "Other Slytherins will turn her own tactic against her. Though I can't say I approve, eventually her 'mantle' of Dark Lord will have turned into a house in-joke. The court jester proclaiming themselves the next king always gets a laugh."

Nurse Poppy spoke up. "I have a five very hurt Slytherin seventh years in the hospital wing. A bunch of bullies who crossed one of their peers, lost, and were expertly put down by someone extremely familiar with conventional healing magic. The standard spells are practically useless, and they're driving me batty complaining about recovering the muggle way. They won't name their attackers, but I've seen them bother Miss Hawking in the past." Nurse Poppy looked around the table, but no one cared much this early in the morning. "The only clue is from David McGurdy, who muttered something about a little bird turning into a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Not relevant." Snapped Snape, who didn't think Amanda Hawking was capable of taking them down. That group was unrelated to anyone important, so it wasn't a big incident.

"Some of my Hufflepuffs are terrified of her." Said Professor Pomona Sprout. "They thinks she's the real deal."

The other professors laughed, and the atmosphere of the staff room relaxed. Pomona scowled as the reputation of her students for stupidity and gullibility became reinforced.

"Now that that's settled," Said Vector, implying Hufflepuffs couldn't find themselves in the dark with a _lumos_ spell, " let's move on to next order of business."

---------

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you wanted to see me this morning?" Albus Dumbledore sat behind his huge desk inside his cluttered office. Delicate magic trinkets with no clear purpose filled out the area's cozy mystic ambiance. Portraits of long dead headmasters watched with eyes containing uncomfortable judgments. The other professors were busy with their first teacher's meeting, so the headmaster knew they wouldn't be interrupted. Harry, who was sucking on a lemon drop and sitting in the visitor's chair, nodded.

Amazed he could do so, Harry blurted out the entire story of his capture and torment. The old man made encouraging noises, and to Harry's growing horror, Dumbledore treated it as old news.

"I'm sorry Harry." The old man sounded grandfatherly and righteous. "I didn't expect Severus and Hagrid to be so rough, but I can see they had little choice. We would have done this earlier, but your magical core wasn't stabilized yet. Someday, I'll return these memories to you, but for now I'll spare you the unnecessary pain."

Then Albus Dumbledore cast the _obliviate_ spell on Harry Potter, removing the memories of the dark ritual that transformed The-Boy-Who-Lived from a squibby muggle into part of the wizarding world.

"It is for the greater good." The headmaster addressed the portraits of his predecessors looking down disapprovingly around his office. "By my position, communicate this event to no being, alive or dead."

"Ugh, professor, what hit me?" Said Harry, about a minute later. He'd come about dropping out of school because he felt so uncomfortable here, but the generous headmaster had convinced his fears were baseless. 'Wait,' thought his mind before jerking under pressure.

Harry rubbed his forehead, fighting against a false, imposed conclusion. A few seconds later, the battle was lost. Dumbledore smiled, and explained his confusion.

"It must have been a magical release of tension. You finally accepted the position of a student at Hogwarts in your heart, and the castle responded. They say she has a mind of her own." Dumbledore smiled, projecting a kind image.

Harry nodded, still sucking on his lemon drop. It tasted sour.

"Was there anything else, my boy?" Asked Dumbledore.

"Actually there was." Surprised, the old man allowed Harry to continue. "When Hagrid took me to Ollivander's and Voldemort's brother wand chose me, it was mentioned I'm rich. I promise not to waste my fortune, but I'd like to see it. Meet my bank manager. If possible transfer money to my foster parents, and get a debit card."

Dumbledore thought furiously, and decided.

"It isn't standard procedure for a first year student to make journeys outside the school like this." Harry frowned in disappointment. "However," continued Dumbledore, infusing hope into the boy's face, "if you promise to accept your powers and buckle down on your studies, I'll arrange a visit tomorrow."

"Thank you headmaster. I wasn't sure being a wizard was something I wanted, but this sets my mind at ease." Harry said.

"I'll have Professor Flitwick accompany you tomorrow afternoon. Don't make him wait, he's a very busy man." Said Dumbledore, implying he was too.

Harry nodded, and ended his visit. Passing the gargoyle on the stairs, he couldn't help feeling a sense of strange bereavement. Harry dismissed it as a last pang of loss for his muggle lifestyle, and swallowed his dissolving lemon drop.

-------------

"Wow, I'm a millionaire and I didn't even have to give a final answer!" Harry stared at the endless stacks of golden galleons arranged inside the Potter vault.

Flitwick and their goblin guide watched bemused, as Harry went around disturbing piles of money. Stacks of Knuts and Sickles fell like dominoes. The sounds of clanking coins continued for five minutes before the boy tired of the game. Then he rolled in the gold.

"Ok, I'm done." Said Harry, who still couldn't believe how rich he was. "Let's go to an office and do up the documents."

Two hours later Harry Potter walked out of the bank with a Gringotts debit card spelled with his blood, a large weightless bag o' gold containing about fifty thousand galleons in shrunk space, and a bank draft for ten thousand muggle pounds sterling. He planned on getting his Uncle Vernon a new car for Christmas.

Professor Flitwick was in a terrible hurry to get back to school, so they didn't linger at Diagon Alley.

Harry had lunch in the great hall, and sat his afternoon classes. He still wasn't used to being magically exhausted at the end of every school day, but he knew he couldn't do more.

After dinner, he met Amanda in the school's library. He'd attended magical school for almost a week now and still hadn't made other friends. Lots of people wanted to hang out with the Boy-Who-Lived, but none cared about the Potter behind the title. He'd thought a friendship with Hermoine Granger was shaping up, but Neville Longbottom had poisoned her against him.

Terry Boot had the other first year Ravenclaws in his corner, and Terry made it clear who was allowed to hang out with them. Harry wasn't, but they didn't tease or bother him. Somehow that made it worse. He'd tried making ovations to some first year Hufflepuffs, but found them immature eleven year olds that enjoyed toilet humor far too much.

Amanda helped him recognize healthy relationships. He really thought a group of fourth year female Gryffindors who enjoyed having him sit on their laps had been his friends. Then Amanda told him exactly why they enjoyed it, and scared the perverts away with the wrath of a Dark Lord.

Draco Malfoy would easily be Harry's friend, had Harry wanted to learn the arts of bullying and intimidation. Without Amanda he probably would have embraced Malfoy. The Slytherin genuinely liked Harry and did not care about his fame. Malfoy could be funny, and his cutting humor was often built around a grain of truth.

But Malfoy also delighted in cruelty. Before coming to Hogwarts, Harry dealt with enough bullies to know he didn't want to become one. Thus he while found himself hanging out with Malfoy's gang on occasion, he tried to make excuses to get away. He was sure Malfoy hadn't caught on yet.

On the flipside, Amanda might have found a girlfriend. She wanted to be sure before she introduced Harry. As usual, after Harry and Amanda finished gossiping, they settled down to read in the library. Harry wanted to read a broader section of magical history than the goblin wars-obsessed Binns taught, and Amanda wanted to review as much of the restricted section as possible before graduation.

They had a quiet sort of companionship, and no one bothered them in the forgotten back corner of the school library. That was because no one knew the two students with the most intimidating reputations inside Hogwarts had become friends. Tonight, that would change.

"Geez Hermoine, I don't see why looking for information about that Flamel guy requires us." Said Ron Weasley in a voice too loud for a library.

"Ron, I can't look through everything myself, and you only have read an index, not every word in the book." Said Hermoine back is a hissed whisper, trying to remind the git he _was_ inside a library. Ron remained oblivious.

"I'm still not sure the stuff I overheard is as important as you think is Hermoine." Said Neville Longbottom.

"Flamel guy?" Mouthed Harry at Amanda. They had put down their respective books at the loud voices from three rows over.

Waving her wand to make sure her words wouldn't be overheard, Amanda spoke: "Alchemist. Very powerful, found a limited way to eternal life. References to his projects are all over the high-level restricted potions section. You need to be a seventh year to even touch the books."

"If they bother us, let's mess with them." Said Harry.

"Ok." Amanda popped her privacy veil, and they tried returning to their books.

Thirty seconds later, Neville Longbottom rounded the corner and noticed them. Well, one of them. "Potter!" He shrieked. "Why are you here?"

"Are you trying to get me kicked out of the library?" Said Harry in quiet voice, as he put down his book.

Neville looked at what Harry was reading. _The History of Magical Alchemy_ etched into the spine of a large brown leather cover made his eyes widen. It wasn't a very complete work; it had no mention of Nicholas Flamel. Harry had just checked the index.

"T-That." Stuttered Neville. "That is exactly the book I was looking for. Give it here Potter."

"No. I'm reading it." Said Harry, looking behind the boy making demands. "See Hermoine -- Longbottom is a prat, just like I keep telling you. It's unspeakably rude to try and take another person's books away."

"Please Harry," said Hermoine, "let me look at it for a minute. I promise I'll give it right back."

Harry marked his place. He held the book loosely in his hand, but wasn't about to give it up just yet. The decision was taken from him as Neville Longbottom grabbed it away.

"Hah, Potter! You lose." Neville took off in a run, only to be stopped before he started by bouncing off the lower body of a person who wasn't there before.

"D-Dark Lord Amanda Hawking." Squeaked Ron, backing up in fear as he recognized her scarred cheek. His brothers told him to her avoid the blonde witch at all costs. Even Percy the stuck-up prefect warned him she was unpredictable and dangerous.

"You are disturbing my studies." Said Amanda, her voice ice. "_Silencio_." They never saw her draw the wand, but suddenly Neville couldn't make any more pathetic frightening wailing sounds.

"Give back the book, and follow." Amanda, grabbing Neville by the ear, began dragging him along.

Hermoine reluctantly handed the volume back to Harry, who could see the girl's inner struggle as she itched to speed-read the endnotes. Babbling a quiet apology, she followed.

"That prat." Muttered Harry as he examined _The History of Magical Alchemy_. "He stole my bookmarker. Now I have to skim to find my place again."

Five minutes later when Amanda returned, Harry had finally found his place.

"Wanna know what happened?"

"Sure."

"Those three are banned from the library for a week. It made that girl Hermoine cry. The librarian likes me because I help reshelve, so she listened to my side and threw out theirs."

Harry nodded. He'd noticed Amanda putting books away when she tired of reading, and had even helped her once.

"Oh, and I might have also mentioned Nicole Flame was a witch who invented the sex change spell and erased all mention of her original name from the official records. You know, not exactly socially acceptable magic, so not found in school libraries."

They banged their knuckles together, a sign meaning 'good job' that Amanda had taught Harry recently.

---------------

The next night, Malfoy interrupted them. He'd come to congratulate Harry for getting Longbottom and friends banned from the library. He too, seemed to forget it was a library, and once more Amanda made an abrupt appearance. Her use of illusions made it look like she materialized out of thin air, a feat supposedly impossible in Hogwarts.

"You're bothering me." Said Amanda.

"So what?" Draco sneered up at her, his voice radiating sarcastic contempt. "It's around the house you aren't a real Dark Lord. Just a mudblood faker who hopes to cash in on a reputation." He ignored her being a seventh year, confident in a semi-public area like the library she wouldn't try anything. Besides, his daddy would fix her if his heir were endangered.

"Remember Mcgurdy and his gang? They challenged my right to exist. Where did they end up, and where are they still?"

"In the hospital wing." Said Draco, skeptically insolent.

"Two seventh year witches spread rumors about my tastes in companionship across the Slytherin common room last week, I saw even you first years laughing about it. Where are they now?" Said Amanda.

"In the hospital wing." Said Draco, who lost the sneer, his pale complexion whitening.

"Last night Marcus Flint, our dear Quiddith captain, picked a fight with me. I went easy on him; it's just a two-nighter. He won't miss a practice."

Beads of sweat formed on Draco's forehead. Marcus Flint was also in the hospital wing. He said he tripped and fell off one of the moving staircases, but no believed him.

"If you're a real Dark Lord, why do let the rest of the house turn it into a joke?" Draco dropped his bully-mask, and had spoken the question as a junior student would address an older mentor.

"Hiding in plain sight behind an obvious truth works better than any amount of concealment in shadow. I can deal with a certain amount of disrespect, it teaches me patience. You'll notice though, that when someone gets out of line, I do take action." Amanda made a dismissing motion at Crabbe and Goyle, who scurried away.

"I'm not sure you hanging around my minion is good for his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived. Talk it over with your own network, and I'm sure you'll see the same conclusions. Now leave." Said Amanda.

Draco did not run, but walked away faster than normal. When he left their sight, Harry started laughing, but kept it quiet.

"I'm not your minion." Said Harry between laughs.

"No. You're not." Agreed Amanda. "Instead you are a friend I'd never thought I'd make. No amount of fancy titles or public misinterpretations will change that truth."

"Wow." Said Harry. "I've been looking for the perfect time, and I don't think I'll find another moment like this." Reaching into his robe, he took out the weightless sack o' gold he'd gotten from Gringotts a couple days ago. He tossed it to Amanda.

She caught it and looked inside. Then she stuck her entire arm in, down to her shoulder, and couldn't find the bottom. Suddenly Amanda was smiling and fighting tears. No one had ever done anything like this for her before.

"Keep it." Said Harry. "Bodyguard wages. Don't spend it in one place because that's your entire salary."

Not saying a word, Amanda knelt down in their corner of the library and hugged Harry tight. It was all the thanks he wanted, and more.

-----------------


	5. Chapter 4 Part II

"Memory Snitching" Part II

---------------

After two weeks of getting to know her girlfriend, Amanda decided they would be together for at least the rest of the year. She told Harry the happy news, and he expressed desire for meeting the mysterious lady. (Well, he wondered which girl was ahead in the crazy race, but Amanda took it as encouragement.) Promising revealed secrets, Amanda set up an introduction.

Harry met Amanda on the rotating stairway outside the Hufflepuff tower. Another, shorter girl stood next to her. An area of busy people traffic might not have been the best meeting place. Harry watched two random second year 'puffs cower in terror, run to their house's portrait, and fight with each other to enter the narrow opening after whispering the password.

"Harry, I'm happy to present my official girlfriend, Jen. H." Amanda beamed, and Harry was glad she'd found someone who looked sane.

The new girl stood at around five and half feet, had long braided brown hair, wore silver framed glasses, and carried about twenty extra pounds. Her cheeks had some baby fat left in them, and her brown cow eyes radiated a look of bubble-headed innocence. The yellow and blue Hufflepuff badger crest decorated her black school robes.

"You can call me Jenny." The new girl said. "I'm proud to have become a complete master of all third year spells."

"Jen is in her sixth year here, and she's really amped about passing an OWL this time." Clarified Amanda.

"Yeah, I'm a fellow failure. We should form a club or close knit society. My grandfather is on the board of governors, so they won't kick me out. I'm your average useless purebred Hufflepuff. I plan to leech off my family fortune after getting the minimum two NEWTs to qualify for my delicious trust fund."

"She thinks female Dark Lords are sexy." Said Amanda.

"Yeah, baby!" Jenny purred. "Especially bold thuggish blondes."

"Come with me you two, I'm about to reveal Helga Hufflepuff's secrets, and I don't mean what color her underwear was."

The spell-camouflaged Hufflepuff prefect standing next to the house's portrait sighed in relief as the trio left. Asking the newest Dark Lord to move away from her house entrance. . . . deathwish. That good-for-nothing Hecate girl always attracted the wrong crowd.

They followed Amanda up the shifting stairs, and she led them through an older section of the upper castle. The corridor curved, until it circled back around where Hufflepuff Tower should be. Amanda traced the outline of a small varmint on smooth stone of the corridor wall. A yellow door with a blue Hufflepuff crest appeared.

"Snakes swallow badgers." Amanda said. The door opened, and the group entered.

The smell of stale alcohol hit them, and they noted the walls were filled with graffiti proclaiming the superiority of the Slytherin house. Two more rooms connected to the large antechamber: a small personal bathroom and what might have been a bedroom. Their walls contained more insults and crudities.

"Before my housemates discovered and looted them years ago, this area contained the secret chambers of Helga Hufflepuff. Slytherins who know about our house's hidden party area have graduated or strangely forgotten it exists. My treat."

"You mean threat?" Said Harry.

"No, I _obliviated_ them. They completely lost the memory." Said Amanda.

"You weren't kidding when you said 'near Hufflepuff with no interruptions'. " Jenny winked at Amanda and licked her lips slowly.

"I'll be changing the password to 'open in the name Amanda Hawking.' None of that Dark Lord stuff, it's getting out of hand. Professor Sinestra and I had a nice chat. Now I'm solid in detentions for weeks," said Amanda.

"Come on, it can't be _that_ bad." Protested Jenny, who liked Amanda's image.

Amanda stared at her flatly, and continued. "Two sixth years are begging me for initiation into mastery of darkness so they can seize their family fortunes. They promised me a cut." An honest temptation, but Harry had given her enough money. Plus those idiots had attitudes screaming 'cowardly double-crosser'.

"Is there a way to make sure no one sees us leaving?" Said Harry.

"Inky, the giant squid outside, is scared of me now. He used let me pet him when I was down."

"Amanda." Said Harry.

"Degenerate Gryffindor pranksters in all years now wink at me in the hallways. The house of the lion thinks I'm 'bloody brilliant' while simultaneously wanting to 'pre-empt my nascent reign of terror' through honorable bloody combat. Damn schizo wannabe do-gooders."

"Amanda!" Repeated Harry.

"What?" Said Amanada. "Oh, I was monologuing again, wasn't I?"

Both Jenny and Harry nodded.

"Sorry. Anyway, wave your wand at the closed door and say the password again. It'll show both sides of the corridor outside, like a split screen television."

"What's a television?" Asked Jenny.

"Superior muggle technology. Let me show you." Amanda waved her wand and demonstrated. Twin real-time images of an empty corridor formed on the door. No one was outside.

"Oh, like a flat crystal ball, okay."

"Is there a way to change the channel?" Asked Harry.

"Wouldn't surprise me if you could, but I don't know how." Said Amanda.

"If this is going to be our secret base, we need to clean it up." Said Jenny, wrinkling her nose at the slimy feel of the rooms.

Amanda nodded, and raised a fist in determination. "Ok my henchpeople, work, work, work!"

"Don't let the Dark Lord stuff go to your head." Said Harry as Jenny saluted.

Amanda looked unhappy and lowered her arm. "Believe me, Professor Sinestra won't let me. I get detention whenever she hears about another 'Dark Lord' joke or incident. It almost makes me sorry I chose 'Lord' over 'Lady' for provoking greater fear-associative reactions. I'm booked solid for the next month. I might not be able to visit the library as often. Sorry Harry. Sinestra promised me hours of fun-filled research into the histories and accomplishments of Voldemort's murdered victims."

"Don't worry Harry, you can hang out with me." Said Jenny. "I'll teach you how to play Exploding Snap for money."

Taking the spell-resistant multicolored graffiti off every available surface took three hours of them working together. Harry abandoned magic and had the girls conjure old-fashioned soap and water. It wasn't worse than being paid for washing the Dursley's bathroom floor hunched over on his hands and knees.

They talked about their lives during the cleaning, and Harry found out Jenny's family had an unplottable estate in the Yorkshire countryside. Her parents were distant, more interested in amassing wealth and power than in caring for their three children. As the middle child and second girl, not much was expected from Jenny. Her older sister was already betrothed and pregnant with the next Hecate heir, and her younger brother was expected to inherit the management of their corporate interests.

It left her nowhere, and she'd rebelled as she could.

Amanda told them more about her early life, which involved a lot of switching muggle schools and juvenile troublemaking. She'd gotten a lot wilder when her parents split. Her favorite movie was Star Wars and her birthday was near the end of July.

Jenny warmed up to Harry a lot, when he admitted he was a fellow failure. His magic power a drop in the bucket compared to the average wizard, The-Boy-Who-Lived-In-Magical-Exhaustion admitted his wimpiness. Harry glossed over his admission to Hogwarts as the pull of his reputation. He couldn't even remember receiving a letter, and mentioned he still wasn't sure how he'd arrived at the train for school.

The three shared a laugh over their ineptitudes. When the work finished, they continued sharing.

"Let's cement this friendship by sharing unspeakable secrets under a wizard's vow." Said Jenny, creating the magic by waving her wand and muttering an indistinct Latin sentence. Touching Amanda and Harry's foreheads with her wand, she finished the spell. "I'll go first. My grandfather supported Grindlewald and taught me the Unforgivable spells in secret last summer. I'm constrained in telling -- a vow like this is the only way I can discuss it."

Amanda nodded, and Harry looked blank. Jenny demonstrated what the unforgivable curses were on a group of Scottish Wallclingers. She'd placed the long centipede-like insects, which ate magic residues, inside a conjured glass jar when they'd cleaned the bathroom area. Nodding, Harry understood the seriousness of her admission, and why the Ministry of Magic outlawed the spells. His magical sense told him they were a nasty type of powerful.

"I'll go next." Said Amanda. "I'm an unregistered animagus, but my process didn't go exactly right. I fiddled with the ritual. It still worked, but my animagus form doesn't have any sort of advantages. I have no animal instincts. I can't fly or swim well, and I don't feel anything like the connection to nature the books always describe."

"Show me your form." Jenny looked really excited. Her face was flushed, her brown eyes gleaming under her glasses.

Shrinking into herself, Amanda's body wavered, becoming indistinct. The air blurred. The swan that looked back at them didn't have only white feathers. Its left wing was black, the same color as the regulation robes worn by Hogwarts students. The right wing was a veritable clashing rainbow, filled with orange, azure blue, and jade green feathers. Amanda-swan flapped her wings once, then overbalanced and fell ungracefully on her side with a honking cry of surprise.

Five seconds and another indistinct waver later, Amanda returned, changed. Her outfit was now a strapless azure blue ballroom gown. Jenny cooed in appreciation.

"My not-so-ugly duckling turns into a beautiful swan." Said Jenny, dreamily. "They say an animagus form reveals a lot about a person's inner character, and once again, I'm proud to have you as my girl."

"Always thought it was bloody useless, personally. I've read how other animagi get enhanced senses, more grace, and become physically stronger as mere side effects. My swam form is a failure. All it does is let me carry a wardrobe with me on my swan feathers."

"Heh, heh." Jenny laughed, her cheeks still blushing red. "I'd heard the animagus transformation makes you nekkid. Guess you never have to worry about that one Amanda."

"Jen, you're such a voyeur." Amanda gestured down at her elegant blue gown. "The last time I wore this was at a funeral in June. I haven't transformed since then – it's a useless skill."

"Is your extra clothing detectable by magic scrying or wards or whatnot?" Asked Harry.

"Who cares?" Amanda snorted, and transformed back into her school robes, going briefly swanlike for two seconds.

"Well, if you are undetectable, you could certainly hide a lot of surprises inside your extra pockets." Said Harry.

Amanda looked stunned, her mouth hanging open. She stroked the scar on her cheek absently. "Why I've never thought of that. It didn't make my senses kick-arse or give me keen animal abilities, so I wrote the whole thing off."

"Wow, Harry, you may be a magical dunce, but you do belong in Ravenclaw." Said Jenny, patting him on the head. "Now it's your turn."

Pulling his thirteen-inch holly wand out of his robes, Harry placed it on the newly cleaned stone floor in front of him, and stepped back.

"My secret is my wand. I've come to suspect it's far more than the brother wand of Voldemort. It's hyper-duper magic. Whenever another wizard or witch touches it, much less tries a spell, they get burned from a power backlash. I still don't understand why I can't remember it selecting me." Said Harry solemnly.

"Rubbish." Said Jenny, as she grabbed it. A flash of red power came between her fingers, and she dropped the wand like a hot potato and yelped, frantically waving her hand until the burning sensations became bearable. She too, took a respectful step away from the wand on the floor.

"That bloody thing is dangerous, and you even warned me. My bad." Jenny murmured a soothing spell, and tried looking nonchalant.

"My turn." Amanda transfigured a dirty mop into a chain mail gauntlet with her own wand. Slipping it onto her right hand, she picked Harry's wand up. "Damn. It's heating the metal." She said, still not releasing the wand.

Turning to the back of the room, she pointed it toward the only remaining Slytherin graffiti. Totally soap and water resistant, it decorated the back wall, shrugging off the girl's repertoire of cleaning charms. As the only statement left, the impact of the message was heightened by the stark simplicity of the bold green lettering made of shifting, hissing snakes. Amanda knew Jen would never be comfortable in their secret hideout with that hanging over their make-out sessions.

**Hufflepuffs are prey. Hunt them.**

Not trusting in Harry's warning, and having failed earlier, Amanda cast the spell with her full magical strength, wanting to obliterate not just the message, but also the fools who wrote it.

"_Scroungify_."

The magic recoil threw back her shoulder, as the spell left Harry's wand. It struck the message with abrasive gale force power, and a green flash signaled the end of whatever protections guarded the hateful words. Eldritch winds blew through the room, tossing Jenny's long brown hair wildly about and into everyone's faces. Feeling her hand begin sending her pain signals inside the gauntlet, Amanda dropped Harry's wand as the spell continued.

One minute later, a small pile of stone dust sat on the floor below a nice shelf for books or knick-knacks. The message and several inches of castle stone had been disintegrated.

With another whispered Latin phrase, Jenny ended the wizard's vow. Slowly, Harry picked up his wand and placed it back in his robes. Their meeting ended soon after, and the students returned to their towers. Harry wouldn't visit the Helga's hidden chambers often, but Amanda and Jenny used them frequently, especially on weekends.

---------

A gap in the cloudy night sky let a moonbeam through, and the light illuminated two heads of red hair. Hundreds of feet off the ground, the November winds were biting. The brothers had prepared heating spells on their robes in preparation for vanquishing evil, and a faint shimmer of escaping warmth came from around their collars. Still, their faces looked a little numb.

"You two!" Said Amanda, surprised. It was ten o' clock at night, all the good little wizards were in their towers after curfew. The Weasley twins naturally didn't believe this law applied to them.

"We're calling you out." Said Fred, his breath puffing into a white cloud in the chill air.

"We don't believe your evil humor can stand against the greatest jokesters of Gryffindor." Said George.

"In fact, we think this whole 'Dark Lord' act is masterful. . . ." Said Fred.

"But only one group of pranksters can rule at Hogwarts." Said George.

Their meeting was on top of the astronomy tower, under a gibbous moon. The twins had delivered an inventive dueling challenge. It had turned Amanda's hair orange with highlights of purple for thirty seconds, before she'd cancelled the effect.

The preparations she'd made would allow her to defeat a group of around eight older students of mixed houses, working in concert. The challenge alluded to overwhelming forces arrayed against her, and Amanda didn't think a larger group than that could have kept itself a secret. Not from Jenny and Harry, who in their own ways, kept better track of what went on inside Hogwarts than her.

"You can't be any older than fourth year students." Said Amanda, looking down on the shorter boys from her six feet of height. "You aren't what I expected behind that message. I'm not sure I even want to touch this." The cold night winds caught her short blonde hair, making her look feral and fey.

"But we'll make your life miserable if you don't take us seriously." Warned Fred.

"This means a lot to us." Said George.

Amanda was about to explain exactly why this whole thing had been an extremely bad idea when an idiot interrupted her.

"Dandelion, leave then alone!" Yelled fifth-year Gryffindor Percy Weasley as he charged onto the top of the Astronomy Tower, out of breath. Large white steam clouds came from his mouth as he panted from rushing up countless stairs.

"Didn't you spell-o-lock the doors up to here?" Asked George.

"Dandelion?" Answered Fred.

"Percy-Wercy," cooed Amanda, "I never told you my full title as a Dark Lord did I?"

"Leave them alone Amanda." Percy stepped between his brothers and their chosen opponent. "They don't know about you and Bill, and for what it's worth. . . . I'm sorry."

"Why it's Darth Dandelion, Dark Lord of the Sith." Said Amanda sweetly. "Too bad I find your lack of faith disturbing."

Amanda made a fist and lifted her arm into the air. Percy's words cut off as the air was choked out of him. He levitated two feet into the air, his hands madly clawing at the invisible force assaulting his throat.

The two younger Weasleys found this fascinating and funny. Watching their stuck-up older brother get a comeuppance, neither twin felt the need to hex the girl he'd wronged, having finally recognized her. They reacted when Percy floated over the edge of the tower. He might deserve pain, but this was too dangerous. No comforting stone remained between Percy and a splatter filled nighttime death.

Amanda loomed older, more intimidating. It might have been a trick of the muted moonlight, but a faint white aura illuminated her scarred face. She smiled a crazed, scary smile.

"Betrayer." She said, with a hint of sweet murder. "I never expected you to cover for Bill when he cheated on me, not after last year. Not when you promised to protect me. The ambition and thirst for recognition inside you must be ravenous." Percy flailed helplessly in the thin, cold air.

"I don't think this is a prank, brother mine." Said Fred.

"No, I remember her from the holidays." Said George. "Only one of Bill's girlfriends mum ever liked. I still don't understand how our brother is such a playboy. "

"It's because Percy-Wercy is now an enchanter, and so is Bill." Said Amanda, enjoying how her toy squirmed as she spun him in circles. "I mean that literally, those poor muggle girls didn't have much choice. I can't blame_ them_."

Exchanging a glance, the twins attempted to save their brother before something worse happened. He might not deserve it, but family was family.

"My magic doesn't work!" Exclaimed Fred and George at the same time. Both had tried forms of levitation to bring Percy safely back onto the Astronomy Tower. Then the twins noticed the truly scary part -- Amanda hadn't touched her wand that night.

"I know Darth Dandelion isn't a traditional Sith name." Said Amanda to a red-faced hovering Percy. "A pet name for an innocent girl created by her first false love, not exactly intimidating. But Percy-Wercy, if you knew what darkness that name represents to me, you'd really be scared." Such trauma convinced her never to get another boyfriend again.

Now that Fred thought about it, her chopped blonde hair did make Amanda look like a Dandelion weed. Thin as a rail, and tall. He could see christening her with such a name, especially if she was randy in private.

"If we swear off our retribution and leave you alone, will you promise not to kill Percy and let him go? Er, let him go without killing him with a fall from a great height." For once, George wasn't thinking as his twin was.

"Are you still here?" Amanda laughed delightedly as Percy went purple-faced limp, his red hair blowing slightly in the pale moonlight. Wouldn't be much longer if she kept up the pressure. Madness danced across her face.

"Dandelion, stop it!" The yell snapped her back into the present, and Amanda would never know which of the Weasley twins shouted it. Maybe they said it together? Foolish and brave, typical of Gryffindors, she thought to herself as she gestured with her closed choking fist.

Percy collapsed into a heap onto the cold stone roof of the Astronomy Tower.

"I don't care who you tell about this." Said Amanda, as she made her exit. "Don't start anything with me, my girlfriend, or Harry Potter. Not this year, not during school, and not after you graduate."

Fred looked at George. Somehow, the 'Dark Lord' seemed younger when she left. He wondered if he could use his magic again? Waving his wand, the to-be-patented Weasley beguilement turned an unconscious Percy's hair an attractive blue and mauve plaid pattern.

George too, had felt the magical pressure lightening at Amanda's exit. "Brother mine, a fine line exists before a joke goes too far. I think that poor woman is miles ahead of that invisible marker, having crossed it years ago."

"Yeah, we won't mess with her." Fred began slapping Percy's face none too gently, not wanting to carry him back to Gryffindor tower. "I wonder what mum will say about Bill's next date when we break his spell at the dinner table."

Walking back to her rooms in the Slytherin dungeons, Amanda concentrated on breathing. Seeing those red headed freckled faces brought back tons of bad memories. Arthur Weasley had been the last wizard to touch her Vespa before she'd been turned into a fireball going 40 kilometers an hour, lost control, and broken practically everything while skidding off her unburned skin on the asphalt. She didn't believe he'd tried to murder her, but stranger tides had rolled her before.

She wasn't happy about her deflected vengeance, but Percy's younger brothers always struck her as good kids. They didn't deserve to be traumatized. Despite what she told herself, Amanda knew she wasn't true to Sith ideals, but her emotions ruled far too much of her life for the other, better path.

----------

AN: Force choke – wandless magic. Cannot be disrupted by wanded spells due to untraditional structure. Can only be used when Amanda proclaims herself a Sith Lord to the victim. Can only be used if the victim refers to her as 'Dandelion.' These restrictions give it ritual form, and make it more powerful.

Additionally, this won't be turning into any sort of crossover. Amanda likes using elements of her favorite movie in her magic rituals. That's it. Look for other geek-culture references in the future.

-----------


	6. Chapter 4 Part III

Memory Snitching, Part III

--------------------

In early December the remaining 'Dark Lord' furor ceased. Now that her house knew not to mess with her, Amanda felt no need to reinforce her reputation. Thanks to the title-reclaiming actions of the Weasley twins, the Gryffindors treated it as a joke and eventually the school focused on their antics, not Amanda's. The Hufflepuffs still feared her; her consort had reputation in her own house as a 'bad, dark girl.' As always, the Ravenclaws remained indifferent.

Finally her long hours of detention servitude ended, and that weekend Amanda called both Harry and Jenny to their secret hideout to celebrate.

Helga's chambers were totally transformed. The walls had been done up in pretty pink pastels, and the bathroom was full of frilly white lace and feminine items of mysterious purpose. (After the first time, Harry knew better than to ask. Both older girls enjoying watching his face when they explained in excruciating detail.) The bedroom area had a queen size levitating airbed with red satin sheets. Harry didn't understand why the mirror was on the ceiling, though.

Jenny wanted to know muggle customs, and Harry never really got invited to parties. So Amanda decided to instruct both her friends what a real slumber party was like. Plans were in place to deal with house prefects (Slytherin – scared of Amanda, Hufflepuff – intimidated and bribed by Jenny, Ravenclaw -- under the radar). That Ravenclaws had single rooms worked out well in Harry's case.

They'd finished roasting smores on a smokeless magical fire, and Jenny had won a bunch of money at Exploding Snap. Now relaxed and sleepy, the three were talking on the levitating bed of air. Amanda tried explaining slumber parties weren't about sleeping, but Jenny and Harry just didn't get that part. Harry was still regularly magically exhausted and needed the rest, and Jenny knew nothing would be going on that night with a third person. As much she liked to show off, Jenny thought Harry was too young for that kind of teasing.

"Amanda, you've shown me some amazing magic since we started going out. I don't understand why you put up with me sometimes." Jenny found herself hugged, and snuggled into comfortableness.

"Yeah," said Harry, right next to them. "You never have any problem showing me all sorts of neat stuff that's not even part of the curriculum. Your grades suck though. What gives?"

Amanda wrapped her arms around Jen, and tried to explain.

"The conventional stuff is hard for me to learn. It's boring and I get in everyone's face for trying to force me into crappy methodology that doesn't work for me. I hate all that minor useless spell work, like charms. I want huge flashy battle spells with incredible effects and booming noises. Even my defense grades are mediocre because I'm always jumping past the tame junk, y'know?"

"So reckless." Jenny snuggled closer.

"I can't imagine having extra magic to play with." Harry sighed.

_Amanda rubbed the ugly mass of scars on her cheek, and recounted a memory._

"It's like dancing. When I was a little girl, before my parents split, I attended ballet school. I could never do the stretches right, and always messed up our tempo in group dances. But when it came down to complicated solo movements that put together all the stuff I usually screwed up, even Ms. Olga, the dried up old hag who ran the school, thought I was a prodigy. It was like suddenly the world came in-focus, and everything clicked. A moment of blissful enlightenment."

"You were a ballerina?" Harry snorted, and cracked up laughing.

"So what happened to dancing? I was hopeless at ballet." Said Jenny, shooting Harry a dirty look.

"One of those ten old year bitches got jealous of my ability. I was such a clumsy brute most of the time. Punched her out, got expelled. Nothing big. My parents put it down to the stress of their messy divorce, and I never danced again."

"How much younger than the girl you punched out were you?" Asked Harry, looking at the three of them floating on the bed in the ceiling mirror. He looked tired.

"Three, no, four years." Said Amanda, as Harry started laughing again.

"That's so sad." Said Jenny. "Amanda-honey, would you dance for me sometime?"

"I dunno if I still remember how, but I'll give a go." Amanda said, shy and happy. Then her voice returned to normal. "Anyway ritual magic is like that. I'm indifferent to potions, dreadfulled my charms OWL, and can do indelicate transfiguration. Though I do kick arse at dueling. Somehow it comes to together in that dancing zone, and I can do wonderful, impossible things with rituals. Each one I've created has exceeded my expectations in performance."

Jenny stiffened inside Amanda's embrace, stunned. "You create your own rituals. And then they always work? That's magically impossible!"

"So I've been told." Said Amanda. The aftermath from her accident had left her with a lot of thinking time. Though against her will, it had been productive.

"Wait, aren't rituals like that dark magic stuff in the restricted section I'm not supposed to look at? You know, books that old power hungry dead guys wrote in their twilight years."

"Yeah, most rituals are like that." Said Amanda. "So, guess it's good night now?"

"Tired." Said Jenny.

"Ok by me." Harry felt a bit uncomfortable with the sleeping arrangement, but was too tired to care.

"Now that the school has forgotten we exist, let's start sitting together at my house's table and ignoring everyone else." Amanda suggested it with a burst of friendship. Jenny and Harry looked at each other and shrugged. It didn't bother them, and it might be fun.

Extinguishing the soft white _lumos_ spell, the three slept.

The new meal arrangement surprised a lot of people, but the rumors died as soon as the next howler hit the great hall that Thursday. Amanda scared or was ostracized by other Slytherins, and by then it was widely thought the no longer so popular Boy-Who-Lived was a magical failure. The Ravenclaws theorized it had taken all of Harry's magic to survive the killing curse.

-----------

Next week, sitting at his accustomed place at the Slytherin tables, Draco Malfoy finally worked up the nerve to speak.

"We can't hang out together anymore because we serve different Dark Lords. I'm sorry Harry." Malfoy said.

"I understand." Relief flowed over Harry like a wave of bliss. Draco seriously creeped him out, especially the way the other boy kept making allusions to how well Harry fooled everyone regarding his true powers.

"My father says I have to challenge you to a duel. Please accept, and I'd appreciated it if you'd throw the match."

Harry nodded and named an infrequently used corridor near both Slytherin and Ravenclaw as the place. Draco named the time. Midnight. Amanda gave him thumbs up.

-------

Filch the caretaker happened upon the scene as Harry and Malfoy finished their duel. Or rather Draco finished Potter the Squib by the simplest hex in dueling. The disarming charm – _Expelliarmus._

Harry's wand flew out of his hand through the air, and landed in Malfoy's hand. He shrieked like a little girl as the thirteen-inch fake holly wand burned him. Even with a false cover, Harry's wand was so intensely magic, a normal wizard touching it got their power channels scorched from proximity. Malfoy tossed the wand away like a hot potato.

Right at Filch, who caught it. Good reflexes.

As the embittered Hogwarts janitor adjusted his grip on the wand, he inadvertently waved it around. A cascade of rainbows erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, demonstrating that Filch the Squib could now do magic. They shimmered across the chamber, beautiful and majestic.

The old man was so shocked, he forgot to yell at the students past curfew and give them detention. Malfoy and crew took off, and were gloating inside their Slytherin beds in five minutes flat. Potter wasn't so lucky. He couldn't leave without his wand.

"Mrs. Norris! Mrs. Norris! Watch me, at last I've been given my birthright." Filch's years of bitterness had fallen away, and the old man pranced around the room, waving Harry's wand and casting spells.

The levitating spell on a large carpet tassle. The cleaning spell on cobwebs across the ceiling. The color-changing hex on a portrait that liked to make faces at him. The noise-making spell for the sheer hell of it. The floating spell on a sword and shield hanging on the wall. The lighting spell, brightening the room. The jellylegs curse on a suit of armor.

They all worked perfectly. Even the obscure and difficult concerto spell. Harry watched the performance with envy and awe.

Filch's celebration at becoming a wizard was a quite a show. It attracted Peeves the poltergeist, always up for a good rabble-rousing.

Filch spotted Peeves before the ghost saw him. Ever since Filch took up the position of caretaker and truancy officer, the one true bane of his existence had been Peeves and his pranks. Students only lasted seven years, but Peeves was eternal. With an overwhelming joy, Filch used the petrifying jinx.

It hit Peeves. Peeves froze.

Filch started to unload. He'd always wanted to be a wizard; it was why he'd taken the job. Hoping against hope, he'd practiced the wand motions of spells with an old broken broomstick for years until finally accepting his status as a squib. Not even a magical school made him into a wizard. No more.

The immobilized Peeves got hit with curse after curse, all wand form perfect. Filch knew about a hundred. Students had hit him with practically every annoying curse that existed over his tenure on Hogwart's staff. With a cackle, he changed Peeves into a girl ghost. That one he'd found particularly troublesome to deal with. It lasted two months.

Filch hadn't had this much fun since the last time Tipsy the kinky house elf decided she needed to be punished. Tipsy was very hardcore, and required manacles, whips, chains, and violation. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend he had.

Releasing Peeves from petrification, Filch sent the ghost bouncing away though the floor with the super spinny curse. Then he laughed like a maniac.

"Excuse me sir." Interrupted Harry. "Can I have my wand back please?"

"No. Never!" Screamed Filch, drunk with power. "This is my precious thing! I've waited years at a chance for revenge on you monsters. Years to show the wizarding world my true abilities."

Before Filch could reveal his evil plans for world domination, Professor Snape, also attracted by the unholy racket, stunned him. Filch fell over onto his ear, but kept a death grip on Harry's wand.

"Always causing trouble Potter, even as a wannabee." Snarked the potions prof. "I suppose Albus wants this kept quiet."

Snape leaned down and muttered something near Filch's hand, which released Harry's wand.

"Go ahead, pick it up Potter. You'll need it for the two weeks of detention you'll be sitting with me. Thirty points from Ravenclaw."

Harry picked up the wand he hated even more; now that he'd seen someone else use it well. He looked at Snape for further instructions, not disguising his hatred.

"What are you still doing here? Run back to your tower like the truant brat you are!"

Harry sprinted off, his right leg slowing his stride, aching terribly at the unfamiliar abuse.

The last he heard was, "I'm sorry Filch, but I can't have you plotting to kill the boy for his wand, as much as I think you deserve it. _Obliviate_!"

---------------

School proceeded. Neville Longbottom finally healed from an unexplained (rumor-maximized) incident in a girl's bathroom during Halloween, and Harry attended a Ravenclaw Quidditch match, but nothing exciting happened. Just round after round of magical exhaustion brought about by Harry's classes, and spending time with Amanda and Jen.

The Hufflepuff girl rapidly grew on him, and it turned out their personalities were so different, no conflicts existed. Harry appealed to Amanda's quiet side; he felt like her protected younger brother. Jenny was her cut-loose side, full of daring, fun and mischief. They acted to control the worst impulses in each other, despite the age differences.

Jenny had decided she enjoyed teasing Harry, but never took it too far. She had the type of laughs-with-you humor that only a man like Snape wouldn't understand. Harry didn't know why he felt so certain the Potions Master was a criminal, but he felt skittish around the professor he hated.

Then exam time rolled around.

Harry failed two of his midterms – Transfiguration and Potions. He didn't have enough power to complete the practical parts of the exams. He didn't care; Poppy Pomfrey told him it wasn't his fault that his magical core was a weak one. Professor Flitwick had designed their Charms exam to maximize the theoretical, and those other classes that didn't require a wand he passed with excellent marks. Quirell didn't even give a Defense Agaisnt the Dark Arts exam, instead opting for a take home essay.

He couldn't wait to get home to the Dursleys and give his Uncle Vernon a Christmas car. Classes were done, and he was almost ready to leave school. The train left at nine in the morning, tomorrow.

Going into the school library for some reading material over break, he saw into Amanda morosely shelving books. No other students were present in the library; heck the librarian wasn't even there.

Abandoning his quest for reading material, Harry walked over to his friend. "What's wrong?"

"Just wishing I had some place to go for Xmas." Said Amanda. "Mom's in America, Dad's doing something official at an embassy overseas, and Jen's family doesn't know about us."

"Cheer up. You're going to spend the holidays with me." Said Harry, deciding it.

"You mean it?"

"Sure, but don't expect a warm welcome or lots of presents." He said.

"Any place is better than joining the resident house elves trying to sing carols." Amanda shuddered just thinking about the shrill, squeaky massacre of songs.

--------------

Harry had written his Uncle he was brining a guest that Vernon had wanted to meet for a long time. He'd also told the Dursleys not to put themselves out; they'd be arriving with their own transportation to Privet Drive.

Amanda and Harry had a compartment to themselves on the train from school to platform nine and three quarters. The older girl was uncharacteristically nervous about meeting Harry's relatives. When he'd described them as strict, but fair, she was reminded of the stability she'd craved for herself when growing up a troublemaker.

Doing his best to reassure his Christmas guest, Harry assured her she could beat up his stupid cousin Dudley if she got too nervous. The fat prat was bound to try something that holiday.

As planned, they took a cab to the nearest car dealership upon arriving in London. Harry picked out a brilliant new red Chrysler Town & Country. It was the sort of luxury car alternative his Uncle always sighed at in television commercials while sipping beer during cricket matches. Passing off the keys to Amanda, who had her driving license, they arrived at Privet Drive in time for supper.

The Dursleys were overjoyed to meet the girl whose life Vernon had won an award for saving. Whatever objections they might have to magic and unnaturalness were utterly squashed when Harry presented his Uncle the keys to his new Christmas car. Harry's family knew he didn't ask for what happened to him, and fought it the whole time.

That night Harry was unpleasantly surprised when Dudders confessed his instant love for Amanda Hawking. The boys were both in Dudley's room for the holidays, as Amanda was sleeping in Harry's room during her stay. While he expected his cousin's snoring, this confession almost broke Harry's annoyance bank.

"I won't kill you during winter holidays if you spill details about my new love." Dudley assured his weak cousin. "When I saw that scar, I could tell that blonde was a real fighter, y'know? Just the sort of woman to help me kick the world into line with."

Harry could do nothing but lie to Dudley. He described everything Amanda hated as her fondest desires, and made sure to be well away when his cousin's invitation to a bullying date was rejected. With force.

The next night Dudders lamented he was probably too young and out of shape for such a tough lady. He resolved to take up boxing, to impress her. Then it was Christmas.

Amanda and Harry exchanged small presents, and Petunia surprised them all by giving Amanda a beautiful pair of tasteful silver earrings. Harry received little from the Dursleys. His Uncle Vernon gave him a store certificate for ten pounds at their local bookstore, and his Aunt regifted him a Thanksgiving fruitcake. His cousin passed along older toys he'd barely touched that no longer interested him.

Dumbledore's present thankfully arrived in secret later that afternoon. Harry didn't know what to think when he received his father's old invisibility cloak. After showing Amanda, she confirmed items like it were rare and expensive.

Amanda never got around to mentioning to the Dursleys she was a powerful witch. They seemed to hold disdaining view of magic, despite Petunia's knowledge of the wizarding world. She left having enjoyed the visit, but never wanted to live with those people. Still, she couldn't fault them much for Harry's upbringing; he was remarkably mature for his age and obviously adored his Uncle Vernon.

They returned from the holidays, and school proceeded.

By February, Neville Longbottom's group became convinced Dark Lord Amanda was behind a nefarious plot involving odd clues they'd put together over the school year. Hermoine mentioned it involved an off-limits hallway in Hogwarts. When filled in, Jenny just thought they were mad about the 'Nicole Flame' thing.

No major incidents took place during the Spring, aside from Harry failing most spell-tests in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. Except for Snape, his professors allowed him to complete extra work to make up his grades. Jenny and Harry cemented their budding friendship. Harry finally beat her at Exploding Snap. After finals though, events came to a head.

Lord Voldemort tried to return to power, and Harry wasn't there to stop him. Sure, he might be close by, but The-Boy-Who-Lived was unconscious.


	7. Chapter 5

Trials and False Smiles 

-------------

The end of the year was nigh. Amanda, Jenny, and Harry sat in their quiet corner of the castle library, talking. The dimmed magical lights cast long shadows, as it was late at night, and no one was supposed to even be in the Hogwarts library. Exams were done, and even the diehard Ravenclaws had enough of the library. The three friends thought they passed after discussing their tests.

Jenny was staring at Amanda more than conversing, and Amanda was revising her summer plans. She'd just agreed to spend a couple months at Jenny's place before doing something too drastic.

Then suddenly, a weird magical vibe ended all conversation. Even Harry felt it.

"I dunno what's up, but Hermoine confronted me about your nefarious plots again." Said Harry.

"So?" Said Amanda. Hermoine's nosy thirst for information often provided a good deal of humor.

"Well she was desperate, and mentioned she knew you were behind the break-in in the off limits corridor on the upper levels," said Harry. The strong magical pulse came from that direction.

"I still don't know how her two little boyfriends managed to save her from that Troll at Halloween," said Jenny, who thought Neville Longbottom was dirt for the way he treated Harry.

"Guess little miss perfect speculated off more than she could chew. Want to go save her? It could be like our last adventure together?" Amanda stood up, ready for action.

"I'm in if we get to prank her somehow." Jenny stretched her arms above her head and smiled at Amanda.

"Ok, let go." Harry started to put his library books away.

Five minutes later Amanda, Harry, and Jenny burst into the antechamber on route to the Sorcerer's Stone. They weren't the first ones there. They weren't even the second group.

"Hermoine, keep the music going. Fluffy needs his rest," said Neville Longbottom.

"So the person behind this was you after all. We have you now Dark Lord Amanda Hawking!" Ron Weasley ignored that three first year Gryffindors hadn't a prayer against a fifth year student, much less a ninth year.

"Don't be stupid Ron," sniped Hermoine. "The person behind this is already down there." She gestured at the open trap door next to the sleeping Cerberus. "Dark Lord Amanda is just upset she wasn't here first."

"This isn't a place first years should be," said Jenny, taking in the tableau.

"If Harry Potter can do it, so can we." Neville, standing up with courage, attempted to stare the older students down. "We'll stop you Dark Lord Amanda Hawking!"

"Harry is here because it's easier for me to protect him this way, not because he's a daring idiot. Whatever it is you snot-nosed kids uncovered, it wasn't my doing." Amanda pointed to herself and sneered.

"Whatever." Jenny rolled her eyes, and expertly stunned the other group of first year brats. The music started to taper out until she wand-gestured at the harp. Fluffy whimpered in his sleep, drooling copiously, but didn't wake.

"I'll go ahead. Harry, help Jen drag the idiots outside the room in case the harp breaks a string."

Grumbling, Harry did just that, grabbing Longbottom underneath his arms and dragging the prat out the door. The other first year's legs hit the door's frame hard on his way out. Harry thought it served the meddler right.

Jenny simply levitated the other two first years with her wand, and walked out of the room with them trailing behind her. With their competition in heroism safely outside, Jenny looked at Harry with mischief.

"Prank 'em?" Harry sounded unsure. The clock was ticking, and he guessed whoever was responsible for this had also taken care of possible interference by the school's professors.

"Nothing elaborate, just put them in circle leaving their heads resting between the other's legs." Jenny demonstrated by shoving an unconscious Hermoine's head between Ron Weasley's legs. Harry nodded, arranging Neville pillowed on Ron, and Hermoine on Neville. It took about thirty seconds.

"Let's go." Harry went back into the room and jumped down the chute, followed closely by Jenny, who paused and looked back at her work in the hallway with a smile of triumph. She shut the door with a quick spell before jumping, in case Fluffy woke.

They arrived to find Amanda standing over a charred plant husk. Black flames still burned over parts of it, releasing an unpleasant brimstone smell. She didn't look happy, and had bloody scratches around her wrists.

"Hellfire on devil's snare? Wasn't that ironic overkill?" Jenny's voice choked with awe and laughter.

"Maybe," said Amanda, leading them over to the next room as she rubbed her wrists.

It was filled with flying keys of all shapes and sizes. A couple brooms sat forlornly on the cluttered floor.

"Ugh. These are worse than horseflies." Jenny kept swiping at keys as they buzzed around her ears. Three were stuck in her long brown curly hair and trying to dislodge themselves by flapping their wings frantically.

"I can blast em." Offered Amanda.

"Heh, I can do this one," said Harry. Both girls looked at him with skepticism. Jenny managed it while waving her arms about, fighting over off a swarm of curious keys.

Taking out his over-powered wand, Harry concentrated with all his might. "_Accio_ frightened key," he commanded. From the upper corner of the room, a lone key with battered looking wings was dragged into Harry's hand. He stalked over and used it to turn the lock, opening the way.

Jenny ran for all she was worth into the next room. Keys fluttered around the exit, disappointed. Amanda and Harry walked after her, unbothered by the flying swarm.

"Whew, that's my spell for the day. I'm beat." Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead and rubbed his hand on his robes.

Amanda looked at him. She could have sworn the hovering keys were warded against basic retrieval spells, but then she remembered the power of Harry's wand.

"It was the only one not trying to crawl in Jenny's hair," Harry said, as they walked through the door.

"A chessboard?" Jenny, staring at the next challenge, appreciated the workmanship. The huge intimidating arena made it clear a game would be required. The team felt tiny beside the life sized marble sculptures of chess pieces. "You're good at chess, right Harry?"

"I can blast em," offered Amanda, sounding less sure this time. It might be wiser to save her power.

"Ha! I can do this one too." Harry pointed out which part of the board the girls should take, and he skillfully directed the flow of the game. All three of them flinched at the amount of harnessed violence that occurred with the taking of a piece.

"Wow, Potter, you're almost useful tonight," said Jenny, as she captured the opposing queen with a silly off balance jumping kick.

"I know, too bad I have to sacrifice myself to win." Harry told the girls the last two moves to use, before being brutally punched into unconsciousness by the opposing king. His body bounced once, then became still.

"Checkmate. Grab the kid Jen, let's get going."

The next room felt spooky as a puzzle scroll described a set of ominous looking potions. Stuff like death and poison made the fifth year shiver, as she gently set Harry down and tried to make him comfortable.

"I don't think you can blast this one Amanda," said Jenny. The older witch sighed.

"Yeah, I'm might be able to ignore the purple mystic fire barrier though. I was never very good at riddles."

"Don't look at me. I'm just another useless pureblood without a brain." Jenny sat on the cold gray stone tiles with Harry's head in her lap and began casting healing charms.

"I told you not to listen to the other Hufflepuffs, Jen." Amanda massaged her girlfriend's shoulders for a few seconds, then reached down and took Harry's wand. The feeling of power jolted her, even through the heat-retardant leather gauntlet she'd conjured to protect her hand.

"Guard the kid and hide, I'm going."

Jenny took out Harry's invisibility cloak and draped it over them. She continued to mutter the few healing spells she knew.

"Time for Dark Lord Amanda Hawking to kick some thieving ass." She held up Harry's wand, and pointed it at the flames. "_Expellicryos_!"

Thick liquid beams of blue shot through the purple flames, opening a passage down the middle by encasing the floor in a thick sheet of ice. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. Immediately, the frozen water started evaporating.

Shoving Harry's wand in her robes and running hard, Amanda made it halfway before losing her balance. She slipped and slid down the rest of her makeshift passage, keeping to the middle of the ice path and doing her best to avoid the encroaching flames. She made it just as her eyebrows and arm hair began to smolder.

With a grimace, she patted out the embers and barely dodged a stunning spell from the man already in the chamber.

"I don't who I expected, but it wasn't you, Professor Quirell." Amanda smirked. "You're nothing to me."

Without an incantation, a glowing white shield materialized around Amanda, deflecting a barrage of incoming hexes. The man's labored breathing became a hiss, and with a jolt the girl realized her true opponent. Quickly, she twirled her wand in three figure eight motions, and intoned with a booming shout, "By my name, let all be forgiven!"

Amanda's faced aged visibly, and she suddenly looked thirty-nine instead of nineteen. Lord Voldemort absorbed the last vestiges of his servant, pulled off the white turban hiding his face, and hiss-yelled the killing curse. It did not work. Neither did _Imperio_ or _Crucio_.

"Twenty years of your life was a mighty price to pay for that. The memories of this pathetic servant tell me you are nearly a dark lady in your own right. Join me. The Philosopher's Stone will restore us both, and we will rule together."

Glaring from behind her protective barriers, Amanda finally noticed the Mirror of Erised in the background. So that was where the stone was somehow hidden.

"In the name of Dark Lord Amanda Hawking, _Legenda Vitae Voldemort_!" Amanda flinched as she finished the spell, again aging twenty years, as she suddenly knew her opponent's history by ripping the information from his mind. Her concentration wavered as she got some Quirell too, and Voldemort used the opportunity to disarm her, sending her wand flying across the chamber.

His disdain for the mental attack became obvious to her, as she understood a great about Legillimancy and Occlumency.

"Come now, Miss Hawking, another life conjuration will surely rupture your magical core. You should know you cannot stand against me now. You're strong, but you have spent your resources too recklessly."

Voldemort threw dozens of strange curses she hadn't heard of until she stole-copied a portion of his memory. None had the power of an unforgivable, but all were creatively lethal ways around her standardized shielding charms. The one that turned you inside out was particularly nasty, but the spontaneous combustion curse probably hurt more.

With her now unfamiliar older body, Amanda knew dodging would be stupid. Instead she pulled out Harry's wand, encased in the false Holly outer shell. A snarl told her Voldemort thought it his brother wand.

"Fool." Laughed Amanda, as protected herself. "I'm not as powerful as a third of the defeated Tom Riddle, but you aren't even a mere seventh. A pitiful spirit remnant given life by cursed unicorn's blood and the vessel of a spineless man, you should have recovered your Hoarcruxes instead of trying to hijack a body. Even a newly graduated Dark Lord like myself can overcome your pitiful resistance."

Seeing his best efforts defeated, the shade of Voldemort sent a jagged beam of black to the opposite side of the room. The Mirror of Erised took the attack and shattered, destroying the pathway to immortality hidden within. He was in the middle of casting a strange spell to destroy her life-conjured wards, when Amanda struck.

"_Lumos Punctum Remotum_!" Amanda rent the air with Harry's wand, feeling the magic burn her hand through the gauntlet as it burst forth. Devourer. The light of stabbing accommodation slowly flowed toward the specter of Voldemort, who found himself unable to apparate inside Hogwarts. It absorbed his futile spells, and oozed over him, flaying the flesh from his bones, and then cracking them. A minute later nothing remained but a small swirl of dust. It was scattered by a gust of wind.

"Whew." Said old woman Amanda, relieved. "Good thing I don't need stupid trinkets to become immortal."

"In the name of Dark Lord Amanda Hawking, forgiveness is at an end." A whooshing sound indicated the unforgivable magic null zone ended, as Amanda became twenty years younger again. She smiled. As long as her lifeforce wards weren't destroyed, she could regain the time.

Without fanfare, Amanda shrank into her Swan animagus form and returned wearing a cloak of one hundred pockets. From one, she pulled out a pensieve. Recovering her own wand, she pulled forty silvery strands out of her head, one by one, filling the sieve to it's maximum. It would take her years to learn the spells contained within, but she needed a hobby after graduation. The mind reading stuff was a keeper. She carefully set the pensieve down on a part of the stone floor without a crater, mentally thanking Harry for letting her properly equip herself with his fortune.

"In the name of Dark Lord Amanda Hawking, lay these foreign memories to rest." She tapped herself on the head with her own wand, and Amanda de-aged to around nineteen years old. The extra memories in her head vanished, and she felt a strange sense of relief mixed with loss. She also felt the munchies and her stomach growled.

Picking up the pensieve, she swiftly refamiliarized herself with how to put up a solid, nigh unbreakable mental defense. Putting the device back into her cloak of many pockets, she laughed and pulled out a triple layered chocolate fudge cake, a fork, and three napkins.

With another animagus fueled transformation changing her outfit back to post duel ick, Amanda settled down at the far end of the room. She instant quilled a quick message to Jen and Harry. Eventually help would dispel the massive wall of purple flames and rescue her.

Soon the yummy cake was gone, and Amanda wanted a nap.

--------

Dumbledore found impassable barriers inside the sleeping girl's mind, and wondered what happened. Harry Potter and Jenova Hecate were missing, and Longbottom's group had strange, disquieting ideas.

Half tried accounting for why the three first years were found in such a compromising position.

The headmaster tried a revitalization, banishing artificial sleep, but Amanda wasn't under a curse. Gently shaking her shoulder woke Amanda. Leading her through the dampened flames, he watched her uncover his two missing students, hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak. They'd also fallen asleep.

Using stealth, Amanda pushed Harry's wand back into his robes as she woke him, wincing as it burned her again. The weary group ended in the infirmary, where she related an edited version of her final battle. Dumbledore cleared the other professors out, and stayed for an additional chat.

Amanda sat on an empty white cot, and the headmaster constructed a privacy ward around them. Both Harry and Jenny rested in their own nearby white cots, resigned to over-nighting at the medical wing. They were playing Exploding Snap.

The Boy-Who-Lived looked really happy after Poppy had fixed the limp in his right leg and his crooked nose with an advanced healing charm. Forget the house points, that reward totally blew away his expectations. Though he'd been attending a wizarding school, that was moment Harry truly, finally believed in magic.

"Miss Hawking, tell me, are you really a Dark Lord?" Dumbledore asked, prepared to take action. His outward appearance reflected no tension, and he looked like a smiling older Santa Claus without the red suit.

"Promise you can keep a secret?" Amanda traced a nonsense pattern in the sheets with a fingernail.

Dumbledore nodded, a bit confused. The witch in front of him didn't seem afraid of his reputation, and her finger's tracings didn't seem like any spell he recognized. Rather, it seemed an idle habit, a tell showing she was secretly nervous.

"Not really. Harry said it's better to pretend to be one to keep bullies away. Personally I'd rather be loved than feared, but it really turns Jen on. So I went with it."

"I see." Dumbledore really didn't see. "So what will you do, now that you've graduated?"

"I'll spend my last time in this country with Jen. After experiencing the bigoted magical culture of the UK, I can safely say I hate it. I'm going to America and joining my Mom. I figured I'd get a job working with magic rituals in the American community and go to college."

"What about Mr. Potter and Miss Hecate?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly a lot more cheerful.

"They are welcome to visit me or join me in America. I've tried to teach Jen enough about protecting Harry that she'll be able to help him during his second and third years. While I'll write often, I don't expect to visit much."

The headmaster nodded; satisfied an aberrant influence on his plans would soon vanish.

Amanda lay down on her cot, deliberately choosing to emphasize Dumbledore's dominant position. Before the old man could release the privacy wards, she asked her real question, aware he'd peeked inside her thoughts and found exactly what she wanted him to. "Could you tell me something, Professor? Did you ever find out more about the group that attempted my murder last year, The Order of the Phoenix?"

With a straight face, Dumbledore sighed, his eyes leaden. "I'm sorry dear, but while I'm aware of that faction, my attempts to determine who carried out the plans have failed."

It was true. He didn't know who had botched his orders. At least Miss Hawking wasn't consumed by and costumed in darkness, as he feared. Her parallels with Tom Riddle were frightening; massive potential with such dark inclinations. Ritual magic, pah.

"Thanks for trying, professor." Amanda Hawking smiled at the man she trusted to do right by her, as he left the room. She'd spend as much time with Harry and Jen as she could, before beginning the rest of her life. Her last Hogwarts feast was something she eagerly anticipated.

For now though, Dark Lord Amanda rested her chopped blonde hair on an infirmary pillow, and slept.


	8. Chapter 6 Part I

**Pop Tarts**

----------------

Like all good things, their summertime together came to an end. It was a lazy, sunny afternoon, and the three friends had finished picnicking on a grassy meadow adjacent to Jenny's parent's Yorkshire mansion. While Amanda was staying at the Hecate estate, the girls had called the Dursleys and arranged for Harry to visit for days at a time. Never expecting his nephew to fall in with a rich crowd, Vernon gave blanket permission.

Jenny, wearing a low cut purple sundress, finished conjuring away the picnic leftovers. The exercise over summer had been kind to her body, and she was only ten pounds extra weight instead of twenty. She still had silver framed glasses and hadn't cut her long brown hair since figuring out how to spell it to a set length.

Harry, wearing an orange and red Bermuda shirt and short pants, rested on the soft grass, using the rolled-up white picnic tablecloth as a makeshift pillow. He'd filled out a bit over the summer, but even with the extra muscle he remained small for his age. Harry sat up when Amanda cleared her throat.

_"Well, I don't want to wake up at four in the morning to catch my flight to America, so I don't want you two up then either. This is my last day, and I have going away gifts." Amanda was wearing white, tan and gray military desert camouflage. She had a matching duffel bag slung over her shoulder, and reaching inside, she pulled out two figurines._

Amanda twirled around once and smiled vacuously. Like the hyped up female voice-over for Barbie commercials, she announced:

"Year two -- the collectable Dark Lord Amanda Hawking action figure dolls! Harry gets the Angel, who can tutor him with second year spells and sing him lullabies (off key). Jenny gets the devil version, which can also accompany her to sleep. It can make things silent and cause vibrations."

Both dolls resembled what Amanda might look like if she was seven inches tall and enjoyed dressing up for Halloween. They had short messy blonde hair, a blemish on their cheeks, and for accessories, came with a small slivers of wood meant to be wands.

"We are eternally thankful." Jenny picked up her devil doll and began to examine it. The doll wore tight black leather and had a small barbed tail sticking out from a gap in her hot pants.

"The details on these are amazing." Harry gently stroked the soft feather wings on his angel doll. She wore a plain cotton toga and had no halo. "I can see the little anger lines on their faces, like they were fighting something."

Amanda winced.

"How do we activate them? Is there a hidden switch?" Jenny pushed on her doll's small bumpy breasts, but it didn't suddenly spring to life.

"Ah, Jen don't do that. Bad idea." Said Amanda quickly. "Let me tell you how these dolls were created first off. Towards the end of the school year I found an interesting source of information for advanced rituals and spells, but unfortunately it was too dark to be of much use."

"Must have been after Quirellmort, right?" Said Harry; surprised Amanda hadn't told them this sooner.

"Well, close to him," said Amanda truthfully, meaning the memories she stole. "The point is I created a variation on a soul-splitting ritual. Instead of forcibly rending my soul, I let it bloom and bear fruit. Then I planted the seeds. That way I'm not spiritually or emotionally crippled."

"So these dolls are parts of you given form?" Harry looked confused.

"Yeah. Parts of my magic and soul built out of desires and wants. Harry your angel is named Tenshi, and her core came from my wish to protect you. Jen, yours is named Akuma and she came from my wildness and dating instincts." She'd wanted to call them Whorecruxes, but hated bad puns. Her friends wouldn't have gotten the joke anyway.

Jenny waved her hand madly in the air, like she wanted to ask a question in class. It made her boobs bounce.

"Yes, Jen?" Amanda nodded with appreciation.

"Does this mean the dolls are anatomically correct?"

Amanda smirked. "They don't have much modesty either."

"Score!" Jenny pumped her fist.

"So how do we activate them?" Harry was blushing and stopped fiddling with Angel-Amanda's toga.

The real Amanda looked uncomfortable. "They are active right now, but I sort of spelled them because they got a bit out of hand. They aren't that powerful, but they can really get on your nerves, y'know?"

"It's better we find out what we're getting into now," said Harry, looking at the doll in his hand with greater respect.

"What did you do to them?" Jenny put down her doll on the green grass, and cautiously stepped back.

"Petrified the little buggers," said Amanda offhandedly. "Well, here goes; you've been warned." She snapped her fingers and the dolls came to life.

"You peeked!" Tenshi yelled in a tinny, faerie voice as she pulled on Harry's left earlobe, using her wings to stay aloft. "You peeked. Pervert." The poor boy stammered out apologies to his enraged doll.

"Arrogant bitch." Sneered Akuma in a low soprano, standing between a prickly weed and a tangle of grass. The devil-doll gestured with her wand and conjured an inch wide black floating platform to stand on. "How dare you paralyze me. I'm the Dark Lord Akuma Hawking. Suffer!" The doll began buzzing Amanda at high speeds, firing tiny red bursts of stinging magic from her little wand.

"I told you two mosquitoes not to pick fights with me." Amanda growled, again reaching into her military duffel bag. "Now face the consequences." Pulling out an oversized black fly-swatter, she went for the attacking nuisance.

"And I thought my second year might be boring without Amanda," said Harry. Tenshi stood on his head, her posture that of a conquering warrior maiden. The white wings on her backed twitched in satisfaction.

"Yeah," said Jenny. Akuma smacked into the grass and dirt in front of her bare feet, but got right back up and went for Amanda again.

"If you think this is interesting, wait until they start picking fights with each other." Amanda's swatter whistled through the air, on target.

---------------

One month later Amanda settled in with her mother in the USA, and the Hogwarts Express collected students again. Tenshi had taken to sitting on Harry's head, like a fashion accessory, as it afforded her a view of the environments (and expressed her dominance). Harry had gotten a few strange looks since the notice-me-not spell hovering above his head subtly drew attention to the boy under it, but it's hard to become a unique individual in a given group of wizards. No one said a thing. The witch with a muggle family who'd pierced her left nostil and tongue though, she drew commentary. Apparently the wizarding world had once branded slaves in such a fashion, and she'd inadvertently committed an uncool act of social self-mutilation.

Akuma liked to remain hidden, usually in the breast pocket of summer tops. When Jenny and Harry met in the third car, third compartment as they'd planned, the doll wasn't even visible.

Jenny used the floo network to secure their spot by arriving early. She wore a yellow sleeveless spaghetti string top and blue jeans. She didn't have a bra on, preferring a minor concealment and support spell, designed by witches, for witches. Her parents wouldn't approve, not that they'd spoken more than ten words together over the summer.

"Good Harry, right on time." Jenny sealed the door with six separate anti-intrusion charms, as she hated her peers and didn't want to be bothered. She also ignored the doll on Harry's head, who'd cancelled the concealment.

"Did you get my school stuff?" Harry sounded anxious. He was in his robes already; the black silk felt better than most of his summer wardrobe. It let his skin breathe. Underneath he wore ripped up old shorts that used to be Dudley's and a white T-shirt.

As much as the Dursleys loved him, especially since they'd found out about his wealth and connections, the mention of magic made them uncomfortable. Two weeks ago, Aunt Petunia told him the real story behind his parent's deaths, and hammered into him the hidden dangers of magic. 'I'd give it up if I could.' Harry remembered saying, 'But the Headmaster hinted he'd make something happen to my family if I didn't try my best.' Petunia had paled, knowing Dumbledore's reputation, and not forced the issue farther.

"Yeah. Your stuff is in my trunk, I'll pass it along schoolside." Jenny said. "I let Akuma force me into signing up for Defense Against the Dark Arts. She really wants to fight the new professor. Bastard made a pass at me in the bookstore."

Before they could talk about anything else, Akuma climbed out of an invisible pocket of Jenny's yellow top, and stood on her bare shoulder. The teenage girl winced as the doll used a rather sensitive bit of her as a stepping-stone.

"Lockhart is a fake!" Akuma stomped Jenny's shoulder in anger. "His textbooks don't even have spells in them."

"Devil doll," said a high tinny voice from on top of Harry's head, "prepare to die."

"You'll lose." Warned Akuma, crossing her arms and twitching her barbed tail in anticipation. "My battles have made me stronger this past month. I've conquered the house elves of Hecate manor and liberated a two acre flower maze from the ravages of garden gnomes."

"So?" Tenshi fluttered her wings in agitation on top of Harry's head. "I've taken out three robins, five squirrels, Dobby the insanely persistent house elf, a pitbull, and a park gazebo."

"Oooh, I don't even know what sort of beast a Park Gazebo is. Impressive, little angel." Jenny wanted a bit of payback for being climbed on inappropriately.

"It's a fearsome eyesore used by muggles during mating rituals, constructed of white paint, wood, and wind chimes." Tenshi nodded sagely on top of Harry's head.

"Enough bragging, you'll fall to my new secret ability." Akuma conjured her black levitating platform, about the size of a glass coaster, and stepped on.

"Let's rock." In eerie synchronicity, the seven-inch dolls said it together while cracking their small knuckles. Battle was joined as they flew at each other.

Before the foes made contact, two rapid popping sounds, like small plastic bags full of air getting crushed, rang through the closed train compartment.

"Oh, no." Harry sounded resigned and annoyed. "Yours learned it too."

Jenny returned his look with a wrinkled brow that accompanied her forming sullen headache. "Yeah, Akuma wouldn't leave my poor elves alone no matter what I did. I love Pippy and Snappy -- they practically raised me. I ended up begging my house elves, on my knees, to teach my doll their popping thing. Do you know how embarrassing that is for a pureblood of a noble house?"

Harry laughed bitterly. "I guess I was lucky. Mine interrupted a very important business dinner my foster parents were having, chasing this ugly looking elf-thing. His name is Dobby and he wants to protect me because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. Tenshi went all out and learned popping teleportation in the middle of turning the main course into a food hurricane. My Uncle Vernon almost lost his job, and the Ministry of Magic sent a letter about underage magic."

He had to shout the last sentence over the constant staccato of popping sounds. Someone from the next compartment started pounding on the wall. Jenny took out her slim birch wand, infused with a dragon's heartstring, and cast the silencing spell.

It was a long trip to school that year. The battle ended with a draw.

---------------------

Alarm klaxons louder than air-raid sirens jarred Harry out of his post-feast torpor, and he stepped backwards in shock. The sound stopped. Tenshi flew off his head, and hovered in battle-readiness.

"Stupid firstie!" Boomed a _sonorous _male student of year four or five from his opened door in Ravenclaw tower's dormitory area. "Girls and boys aren't allowed into the same bedrooms or bathrooms. Go play elsewhere, some of us are studying." A door slammed.

"Idiot." His heart pounding through his chest on frightened adrenaline, Harry crossed the threshold of his bedroom again. "They should give that orientation lecture at night, not the next morning." It was probably that barmy Lovegood girl that got stuck in his house. She'd asked Tenshi to join in her prayer, and then to see her noble steed – a Holy Sneezing Vitramel.

Tenshi waved an 'all clear' signal from in the hall, and then fluttered in. As soon as she moved beyond the doorframe, the alarm echoed through the house. Just as bone jarringly loud as before. The mini-angel popped back into the hallway, ending the clamor.

"This won't do." Said Tenshi. As Harry was still deafened from earlier, he didn't hear when she asked for permission to solve the problem. Nodding at her frantic arm waving, Harry closed the door on his doll, leaving her hovering in the hallway.

Also quite deaf, Tenshi didn't hear Harry tell her to sleep somewhere else that night. He'd nodded when it looked like the doll was telling him goodbye.

At two in the morning, Tenshi popped into Harry's bedroom, and stretched her seven-inch self before collapsing on his pillow. Completing the mission had been tough. She'd subdued an unusually intelligent cat named Norris, blasted apart a poltergeist (Peeves immediately reformed and sought easier prey), and interrogated Tipsy the house-elf. When it became obvious the strange creature enjoyed a level of pain that made even the insane Dobby squeal, Tenshi unleashed her creativity.

The elf cracked and spilled the secret trick to fooling Ravenclaw's house wards when threatened with an eternal vacation. Tipsy bawled like a baby, flattening her floppy ears over her huge forehead, when she realized it meant never tasting a flogging whip again.

Grumbling at the indignity of it, Tenshi identified herself to the wards as a maid/room-cleaner. She felt the answering flash of magic, and went to resume her vigil over Harry. In a year or so, this loophole, present in the entire Hogwart's security ward systems, would be exploited by invading forces.

--------------

AN: Mental picture (amusing): dementors wearing pink frilly aprons with matching feather dusters. Of course, this story has nothing to do with that.


	9. Chapter 6 Part II

Pop Tarts II

----------

You really had to try to be held back a year at Hogwarts. Despite 'failing' Potions and Transfiguration, Harry still found himself in second year classes for both subjects. When he'd asked Professor McGonnal about it, she'd spoken with sympathy.

"Mr. Potter, it's obvious you understand the theories behind the subjects, and no amount of practice will aid you in the practical. If you can plod though this year, you can drop both courses in favor of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, which aren't as draining for a student with your abilities."

"But. . ."

"No buts, Mr. Potter." Interrupted McGonnal. "It takes two years to learn the basics, and you aren't the first student to take the 'little magic' track through your wizarding education."

Understanding the conversation had finished, Harry left for his next class, defense with Professor Lockhart.

"Don't worry Harry." Said Tenshi, sitting on his head under notice-me-nots. "I'll help you learn whatever is giving you trouble."

"I hope the new defense teacher isn't big into spellwork." Harry hurried through the school hallways, avoiding potential lateness.

"I hope he's a worthy opponent," said Tenshi with anticipation.

Before he could admonish his doll not to fight a Professor, Harry arrived in a rush. Professor Lockhart started class immediately by calling the second-years to be quiet.

Holding up an oversized portrait of himself (enlarged from Neville Longbottom's copy of _Year with the Yeti_), their new professor introduced himself with overblown pomp and tested the class on his likes, dislikes, and secret ambitions. Having never so much looked at the books, still at the bottom of his trunk as delivered by Jenny, Harry filled the questions at random.

During the test, Gilderoy himself paused for a word. "Is it true the famous Boy-Who-Lived has next to no magic powers?"

Nodding glumly, Harry said, "Yeah, people's expectations can be cruel."

Not sure about publicizing himself with Harry Potter, Lockhart returned to the front of the classroom and posed until the tests ended. He awarded Hermoine Granger house points for fangirl devotion.

Harry zoned out, wondering how such a conceited man received a teaching position. Right about the time he'd decided to reserve judgment until the man demonstrated his magical abilities, a sharp pinch on his ear forced him into attention. Tenshi thought he needed to hear something.

"-- not to scream," said Lockhart in a near whisper. "It might provoke them."

During the baited pause from his announcement, he whipped the cover off a cage of electric blue creatures slightly taller than Tenshi. They started making high-pitched chirping sounds, much like singing birds.

"Yes," Lockhart said with drama. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

Harry's face twisted in annoyance. Tenshi was dancing on top of his hair in excitement. He missed a brief exchange between Seamus Finnigan and Lockhart. Then the Professor smacked the pixie prison, as he finished his preparations.

The pixies started rocketing around inside, jangling against the bars. "Right, then, let's see what you make of this!" Lockhart opened the cage with a flourish.

"Can I, Harry, please?" Tenshi begged in the midst of chaos. Her first duty was as a bodyguard, not a commando.

Two pixies levitated Neville Longbottom by grabbing his froggy ears, and others made a bid for freedom as they shattered the back windows and escaped the castle.

A swift shield dome sprang into place above Harry's head, deflecting a rain of glass shards from students near the windows. "_Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_" Bellowed Lockhart, flailing his wand. In disdain, a pixie grabbed the useless stick and tossed it out a shattered window.

The classroom was wrecked. Ink was spilled over the floors and walls. Useless textbooks were shredded, and chairs overturned. Students cowered underneath their desks, and Longbottom shrieked as the iron chandelier he'd been hung from on the ceiling gave way.

Lockhart sprang under his own desk, avoiding the falling Longbottom projectile. Seeing no alternative, Harry whispered, "Tenshi, your turn. Try not to kill anyone." No one heard him in the melee. He'd climbed under his desk too, as it seemed the safest course.

"Hell yeah!" Said a _sonorous_ throaty female voice, attracting the attention of the pixies amidst their mayhem. With a popping sound, Tenshi appeared on top of Lockhart's desk in her full seven-inch glory. Her tiny wand was at the ready in a classic dueler's stance, and her white wings were fully spread. The effect was only slightly diminished by her inappropriate white toga. A glowing corona of power radiated from her tiny frame, making her appear an extra inch tall.

"Is that some sort of Cornish pixie angel queen?" Hissed Hermoine to Ron Weasley.

"I don't know." He hissed back.

"Time for pixie bitch smackdown!" Announced Tenshi, flying at the nearest target. Three seconds later an unconscious electric blue pixie's body smashed an empty chair in half. Then the little angel was warmed up.

It sounded like a string of firecrackers interrupted by commentary as Tenshi teleported across the room, defeating her foes. The students could only watch in awe. Even Professor Lockhart was stunned, his head peering out from under the large ink-splattered teacher's desk. He didn't even notice the drop of black ink blemish his forehead.

"_Stupefy_." Pop. "_Bombarda_." Pop. "Rising Dragon Kick!" Pop. "_Glacius_." Pop. "_Flipendo_. . . Tenshi Upper!" Pop. "_Voltus_." Pop. "Screaming Wingslam!" Pop.

With seven of their number taken out in less than thirty seconds, the remaining Cornish pixies decided freedom took prominence over revenge. They shot out the broken classroom windows like their lives depended on it. Tenshi looked disappointed; she'd wanted to wingslam another to make a matching crater on the other panel of the blackboard.

"Victory!" Proclaimed the small angel, posing on top of Lockhart's desk. One of her breasts popped out of her toga, but no one really noticed. She was too small. With a final flourish of her wings, Tenshi disappeared. Then the bell rang.

"I hoped everyone enjoyed the demonstration." Said inky-forehead Lockhart, trying to claim credit. Several second year females, Hermoine included, nodded enthusiastically as the class filed out.

"That was too easy." Complained Tenshi, having reappeared atop Harry's head with her notice-me-not charms restored. "House elves should rule the magical world. Their abilities kick arse."

"Maybe they once did." Said Harry, as they headed out.

-----------------

Gilderoy Lockhart had barely recovered from the early surprise with the second years when his sixth year class began that afternoon. Cleverly switching classrooms, he'd collected their 'love-love-Lockhart' preliminary tests and started a lecture on dark creatures and how to subdue them.

"Is it true you are an accomplished duelist, Professor?" Asked the sixth year blonde Gryffindor girl who'd gotten the highest marks on his adoration quiz.

"Why yes!" His megawatt smile made the girl redden like a rose waiting to be plucked. "Let me tell you a bit about Werewolves that the publisher decided was too gruesome to make the last edit in my novel."

Tired of being bored, Jenny spoke extra loud; her raised voice overrode her teacher's ridiculous boasting. "I think you're a fraud full of hot air. You couldn't beat my seven-inch tall dolly in a fight."

"I'll accept that challenge," said Lockhart, clearly not believing it to be of substance. "Though Miss Hecate, that's not what this class is really. . ."

"Awesome." Jenny interrupted again. "Akuma, I choose you!" Reaching into a pocket of her robes, Jenny grabbed the devil doll and threw her at the professor like a fastball.

"I don't know where you heard of pokemon you world-blind pureblood ditz, but for the eighth time, I don't happen to be one!" Akuma conjured her black levitating disk in mid-rant, and halted herself in a foot away from Lockhart's face.

"Oh dear Merlin, not another one." Lockhart whispered under his breath.

"Go for humiliated over quick, Akuma," said Jenny. "Begin on my count of three, proper dueling stances, right, right." Standing up from her last row desk, Jenny easily commanded the class's full attention.

"Miss Hecate, cease this nonsense." Lockhart, eyed the floating black platform Akuma hovered on with fear. "I'm here to teach, not participate in silly games."

The other students in the class watched the exchange with amusement. None of them immediately recognized Jenny, as she'd dropped defense as a subject after her OWLs. However, the amazing show Lockhart put on for the second years had been the talk of the lunchroom, and this fit his reputation for drama and showmanship.

"Break the Hufflepuff's doll and get on with it." Called a sixth year Slytherin girl.

"She won't break -- Rachel Falstaff watch, sneer and be scathing." Jenny sounded certain, having dealt with the stuck-up witch before. "One."

Lockhart remembered himself. As a professor, he should act. Still, the predatory interested looks of the observing students made uneasy feelings float around his stomach. He examined the austere substitute classroom and found no help among the empty shelves and maps of Europe adorning the walls.

"My Grandfather. Board of Governors. Keep your job? Two." Said Jenny.

Stiffening, Lockhart assumed a proper dueling stance.

"I thought Jenova Hecate dropped out in disgrace after snogging half the school and cutting seven months worth of classes." The stage-whispere came from a Gryffindor boy Jenny turned down two years ago, who had looked beyond her summer weight loss and new confident posture.

"Blow it out your ear, John Dickenson, you small wankered dateless ponce-virgin." The class snickered. "Attention front, my peers -- Three." Said Jenny.

The massacre commenced. No other word did what happened as much justice. Akuma popped over, grabbed Lockhart's wand, and teleported it out of his firm grip before he could finish the first syllable of whatever incantation he'd begun. Then she used painting, color changing, and ripping hexes to turn the man into a modesty impaired, badly made-up, multi-colored rag clown.

Lockhart fell over unconscious, despite Akuma messing up her final, disabling neck strike. During later post-combat analysis, she'd conclude he'd fainted from mortification.

Akuma bowed to the class from her floating black disk. "Victory," said the doll in a seductive _sonorous_ voice.

Jenny started clapping, and taking her cue, the rest of the class joined in. After the applause, Jenny commanded, "Akuma, return!" while making a come-hither motion.

Akuma sailed over to Jenny until her disk was about an inch away from the standing girl's nose. "For the ninth time, I'm not a pocket monster you empty-headed Hufflepuff delinquent wh--" The rest of Akuma's (still _sonorous_) insult cut off as the doll was stuffed back into a pocket of Jenny's robes.

Calmly picking up her books and materials, Jenny realized she still commanded the respectful attention of her peers. "Class dismissed," she said.

Ignoring the called questions, Jenny walked out the door. If she'd be learning anything about Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, it would be during independent study. Was the rest of the school too stupid to realize the incompetence of Professor Lockhart at his chosen subject?

"You can't ignore me!" Said a loud voice from her robes. "Admit I'm not a pokemon for once and for all, or I'll tickle."

"You are not a pokemon Akuma, but I will continue to call you one," said Jenny. "I enjoy it too much."

---------------

Halloween rolled around in practically no time. Exhausted from overusing his magic in class, the days passed Harry by in a blur. Jenny was supportive, sitting at the Ravenclaw table during breakfast and supper, but not even her cheerful teasing could lift the grindstone from Harry's back.

Tenshi helped with the second year spells, guiding him into correct wand forms and visualizations. Yet even success with spells didn't save Harry's thin reserve. Not when magic power releases and new spells were a daily feature in Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration. Despite Tenshi's willingness to beat him up, Lockhart was Harry's favorite professor. The man didn't make him _do_ anything, yet was entertaining. Especially when he forced fangirls to help him re-enact parts of his novels for class.

Wondering if he'd be burned out of magic, Harry looked at his sixth year companion with envy. The girl was convincing the strange pureblood Luna Lovegood another technology relied on strange magical creatures.

"The Hovercraft used by muggles is really powered by miniature Thestral-Pegasus hybrids. They've been bred to be extra flatulent, so as to inflate the air cushion underneath." Straight-faced, Jenny raised a forkful of turkey to her mouth.

"That makes so much sense!" Luna smiled. "Just like muggle jet fuel is really the dead remains of huge lizards and sea serpents, and Wimple-Shaped Uligons are responsible for crop circles."

A muffled squeaking sound came from Jenny's robes.

"If the ghost-pokemon of hellfire and haunted pancakes is laughing at me, it must be true." Luna nodded to herself. "Oh, and thanks for returning my Charms text, I don't know how it got placed behind the extra paper towels in the Astronomy Tower's men's bathroom. I suspect gremlins."

Ostracized by her fellow Ravenclaws, first year Luna Lovegood fit into the role of entertaining group mascot. As much as Jenny made fun of her, the older girl also protected her. Harry welcomed her as a fellow misfit, but seldom spoke. He was so tired these days.

"So what are you wearing to the Halloween party tomorrow?" Asked Luna. "I'm going as a Pugnacious Chinese Munipuni. The silver gel and stripes go well with my hair."

"A dark consort." Said Jenny. "It's an outfit against the dress code, and I want to bask in the jealousy and male hormones."

"I'm wearing fashionable muggle clothes. You wizards can think whatever you want about them." Harry fought back a yawn.

"Tomorrow night is going to be so much fun," said Luna.

Halloween in the Hogwart's great hall was truly amazing. Overwhelmed by the variety of wizarding candy available for students, Harry was content to watch Jenny make fools of upperclassmen. Her dark consort costume was made of sheer fabric and magical moving shadows. She'd described the spell to him, and scaling the modesty levels based on magical power and age sounded difficult.

Obviously though, it worked. His Transfiguration professor didn't give the costume a second glance, and the Weasley twins had already complemented her on her breasts. Fourth year male students auto-blushed, and couldn't stop staring. More than one girl's ire struck her date when he didn't feel comfortable standing or dancing because his costume felt too tight.

Harry settled into a light doze, enjoying the spooky music in the peaceful candlelit corner he'd chosen to sit in. Luna had made him dance with her, and then Harry retreated safely, having fulfilled his party obligations.

The best part was no Neville Longbottom. Hermoine confessed in double Potions class that their trio had agreed to attend Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday celebration.

Harry woke as Professor Flitwick gently shook his shoulder. The enchanted Great Hall had been returned to normal lighting and the music had stopped. The few students remaining whispered and inflated rebellious and worrisome speculations.

"I'm sorry Harry," said the Head of Ravenclaw. "Please return to your room in the tower. An incident has happened, and this party is over."

On All-Saint's Day, November 1st, Harry found out what happened. Mrs. Norris had been petrified, and Neville Longbottom was the first to find her. A message above the stoned cat in blood red dripping letters became rumor food for the whole school

**The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.**


	10. Chapter 7 Part I

Doll Makers 

---------------

Another early December day during a Quidditch match found Harry briefly alone in a long Hogwarts hallway. He was contemplating the Chamber of Secrets when two pulses of eldritch darkness and pain flashed through his brain like a pair of phantom bullets.

"Harry, run!" Said his doll, launching herself off his head and glowing like a holy hummingbird.

The protest died before Harry could even voice it, because he'd felt it too. Major disgusting magic, reptilian and hungry. The walls around him exuded killing instinct, and while Harry wanted nothing more than to cower in a safe corner, he couldn't figure out in which direction to flee. Instead he froze, disorientated.

"Close your eyes, Harry! No matter what, don't look until the badness fades." Tenshi popped away, and Harry sighed. His small guardian angel left for battle before he could forbid such a reckless thing. This threat was far more dangerous than a house elf or pixie. Feeling stalked by a great, unknown predator, Harry obeyed her order. The blackness behind his eyelids gave no comfort.

Harry heard a tinny, muffled cry that might have been Tenshi, followed by a loud hiss-roar of pain. Then an incredibly loud clap came from right above him, like two huge stones had hit each other at impossible speeds. The smells of dust and old mortar filled his nose, and Harry sneezed twice, his eyes clenched shut.

Something light and feathery landed on his face. It felt like Tenshi's wings when he picked the object off his nose. Tears leaked from the corners of his closed eyes, and Harry decided he had to know. He opened his eyes, and his blurred vision was enough.

In an eternal snapshot he saw the tattered remained of his angel's wings resting inside his hand. Tenshi herself had been turned to stone. Her final resting place was a crater in the far side of the hallway. She'd shattered almost completely, though a triumphant body posture was evident in the upraised fist connected to her torso. Her head, and the rest of her had become dust and stone fragments. Some savage instinct told Harry to run like hell, or at least close his eyes again. He ignored it in his grief.

Then he saw the huge serpent-thing's head sticking out of the shattered opening of the castle wall closest to him. A bloody ruin disfigured the huge snake's head. Pus and blood oozed out of an empty, burned eyesocket. The king of serpents turned its head, and the last thing Harry saw was a malevolent yellow orb with a mote of stone inside it.

As he was petrified, Harry saw the remnants of Tenshi's other arm -- a small sliver of stone in the remaining eye. His guardian had tried, but had finally lost. An evil beyond both their expectations had destroyed her.

Ten seconds later, another warning about the Chamber of Secrets being re-opened appeared on the damaged Hogwarts corridor, above the crater that was Tenshi's resting place. They found Harry clutching the wings of his angel with a deathgrip, wearing an expression of terrible sorrow.

------------

Peace, serenity, and great sadness. Two weeks later, the atmosphere of the room in the hospital wing housing the petrified form of Harry Potter resembled a holy sanctuary. Like an ancient saint, the ingrained expression of suffering on Harry face transcended the mundane and reached into holy, forgotten spaces.

"I'm sorry Harry." Jenny hadn't cried, except for her first visit, when she couldn't stop crying. "My grandfather located a supply of fresh mandrake to brew an unpetrification potion with, but Dumbledore is right. If the Heir of Slytherin is defied in such a public way, his only recourse will to attack again with greater, lethal force. We can't risk it. We'll cure you after this is over."

Akuma popped onto the pillow next to Harry's head, and gently brushed a small accumulation of dust from his forehead. The doll had changed. Now nine inches tall, she had a second, gray pair of wings attached to her back. Located lower than her decorative black bat wings, the tarnished angel feathers were fully functional.

"We'll get them Harry." The doll's high alto voice sounded like a person's, and not a nine-inch construct of magic. "Tenshi wanted you to know that. Aside from wings and a few precious memories, I couldn't absorb much of her. It took everything she had to blind the basilisk in one eye."

Harry lay on his hospital bed, his expression of frozen grief unabated.

"Yeah, we know it's a basilisk for sure now. Those dead roosters confirmed it. What we don't know is how many basilisks there are, or how they move around the castle. We suspect it's a mated pair with a clutch of eggs. Akuma is resistant to stunners now, but we're not sure if her ability extends to the stare of serpent kings. I'm not willing to have her blindly teleport into danger, not when she might get destroyed too." Said Jenny.

Akuma perched on Harry's chin, and tenderly brushed the last dust off his face. "You'd be so proud of Jenny and me. We've browbeaten a bunch of second year students into doing all the investigative work. Hermoine Granger is giving us weekly reports. Not that Jenny's doing much with the four easiest classes in the school."

Divination, Herbology, Muggle Studies, and DADA weren't much of a course load. Whatever uses Jenny planned for her free time no longer mattered. Not anymore.

"Don't listen to the little devil, Harry. I've been studying in the library, lots of defense. Lockheart is such a useless sack. I've never seen him cast a spell right. Akuma told me about Snape spanking him at his dueling demonstration. I know you like the man, but it was still so funny!" Jenny's voice wasn't quite steady.

"We still have lunch with Luna, though I don't eat anything." Said Akuma. "After I left a stupid Ravenclaw bint hanging from a second story flagpole by her enchanted bra strap, no one else has stolen Luna's scrolls or textbooks."

"Another attack happened yesterday, two third year students in Slytherin, both with muggle parents, were petrified along with Peeves. Got the school and tabloids in an uproar. I brought another Daily Prophet full of speculations about Dumbledore's competence and what the opened Chamber means. Grandpa isn't too fond of our headmaster right now -- they quoted him. I'll put it with the rest, on the end table." Originally, flowers had been permitted, but after cleaning off a spiderweb from Harry's left ear (that had two caught flies in it), the Nurse banned anything containing potential insects from the room.

"That's it for us kid, sleep well sweet prince." Akuma flew over and sat on Jenny's head, fading away with notice-me-not charms. The two friends of Harry Potter left the room. Tomorrow they'd visit again, and tell Harry the news.

The eternal suffering upon the face of the Boy-Who-Lived remained. Harry's blank eyes gazed into an impossible distance, holy and disturbing.

------------------

Jenny didn't know how Dumbledore explained Harry's absence to his family during Winter Holidays, but no uproar spilled over into the magical community. Already February's cold impartial weather blew snowdrifts high against the castle walls.

Harry's hospital room was perhaps the most heavily warded part of Hogwarts now. The Violet Badgers used it for their weekly basilisk hunting meetings. The expression on Harry's frozen face helped the group to rally and focus on their task.

"Pop in with a rooster. Activate the feels-like-dawn enchantment. Pop out. Takes less than a second." Said Akuma, itching for action.

"Even I know that's bloody stupid." Said Ron Weasley. "Remember the dome? Explain it again, Hermoine. That doll is a bit thick."

"The Dome of Selective Silence, a fifth year charm created in 1975, is now taught as part of the standard Hogwart's curriculum. Going on the assumption the Heir of Slytherin is an older student, rooster saturation crowing is not feasible, and neither is the Pop-Goes-The-Chicken plan. I still say there's been no attacks because basilisks hibernate in colder weather, like all reptiles."

Jenny pulled out the Marauder's Map and handed it back to Ron Weasley. "Sorry, didn't work. When I'm inside Helga's secret chambers, I don't show up on the map. As Salaazar Slytherin's secret area, the Chamber of Secrets has a similar protection, I'd bet my life on it."

Predictably, Neville Longbottom made his weekly objection. "I don't see why we have to be called the 'Violet Badgers.' Demeaning, it is."

"I don't like it either mate, but it keeps the Slytherins from wanting in. Malfoy refuses to join us because the name is beneath his dignity." Ron countered with the usual argument.

"Hey!" Interrupted Jenny, who picked the name. "Violet is my favorite color, and I'm doing this because Harry is my friend. Stop doing this every week you twerps."

"Listen to the Heir of Hufflepuff. The Grims agree she will defeat the Heir of Slytherin." Luna Lovegood invited herself, and Jenny let her stay. The girl still didn't have other friends.

A choking sound came from the infirmary hallway outside. The pitter-patter of a first year's feet receded into the distance.

"Colin Creevy." Snarled Akuma. "My atomic wedgie didn't take last week, the bugger is back like a bad rash. Can I Jenny?" Their leader nodded, and the nine-inch doll popped out. A faint scream made it's way into the room.

"Mission accomplished." Said Akuma, as she appeared with a slight displacement of air. Fluttering back to her normal seat on Harry's head, the meeting continued.

"I think I've figured out the 'Why kill roosters?' question. It doesn't make sense to knock off the closest flock if our enemy knows the Dome of Selective Silence." Said Jenny.

Hermoine looked excited and interested. The two boys looked bored. Luna looked spacey. Harry remained petrified with agonizing sorrow etched onto his face.

"Basilisks are thought to have at least human intelligence, and it we've speculated the heir entered a blood bargain with a mated pair. King snakes would want such potential threats away from their nestlings, and would also want to remove temptations of a double-cross. So to keep the basilisks appeased, our enemy killed roosters within a few miles of the castle." Said Jenny.

"That makes perfect sense." Hermoine.nodded.

"Last order of business. Any progress on the triangulation?" Said Jenny.

"It's no good. We need one last attack to be able to pinpoint where the Chamber is inside Hogwarts. Then I can lead us to it." Akuma was frustrated. Hermoine had suggested narrowing the location based on the radius of the attacks. It didn't work well with only two data points.

"Fine then, meeting adjourned until next week. Let's hope the press leaves the school alone for a bit."

"This time is a slow news month." Said Luna, knowingly. "Both the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler are scrambling for a good story."

The next edition of the Daily Prophet came with a bold headline. The article specifically thanked junior apprentice reporter Colin and was written by Rita Skeeter.

"_Heir of Hufflepuff to face Heir of Slytherin_" was the title. It began by mentioning Jenova Hecate's discovery of Helga's secret chambers and her valiant efforts to spearhead the campaign against the darkness inside the Chamber of Secrets. Then it got worse. Nicknaming her 'Dollmaker' the article described how the powerful artificer Jenova created miniature angel and devil dolls that protected and patrolled the hallways of Hogwarts. . . .

"They called me a pokemon." Fumed Akuma. "Those talentless hacks! Skeeter better hope I never catch her alone near an alley."

Jenny soon found herself in an uncomfortable position. Other Hufflepuffs began worshipping the ground she walked on instead of treating her like trash, which was jarring enough. Headmaster Dumbledore thanked her during breakfast in the Great Hall. By the end of the week, re-appraising stares by Professors, who wanted a moment's discussion regarding her course schedule next year, were driving her batty. Responsibility and fame sucked.

'Harry better appreciate this.' Thought Jenny darkly, as she let Luna talk her into an exclusive interview for the Quibbler.

The media circus continued into the springtime, when the Heir to Slytherin struck again.

----------------

Teleporting AN: Don't forget -- point out grammar errors too. Oh, and if I wasn't specific enough before – **PLEASE REVIEW**. I'm writing this essentially for feedback, thanks.


	11. Chapter 7 Part II

Despite the objections of Professor Snape, Jenny used her new power and influence for one special privilege. The Violet Badgers, and anyone else afraid of being killed by Basilisks, now had fashion statement permission. Sunglasses, the enchanted mirror-shaded kind, soon became standard school attire.

The break came near the end of April. Neville Longbottom and Hermoine Granger were petrified after they'd almost finished researching the last time the Chamber of Secrets opened. Finishing an interview of the spider, Aragog, they were found stone cold near the school library. Ron Weasley's unnatural fear of spiders saved him from a similar fate.

Working in secret, Jenny and Akuma reconstructed the evidence, but found Moaning Myrtle stoned in the girl's bathroom before they could question her. Faced with a dead end, Akuma finished the triangulation started by Hermoine using the two new attacks as data points.

"Tunnels or secret room under Myrtle's Bathroom." Akuma concluded, after triple-checking the numbers. An ecolocation spell, an obscure seventh year charm Jenny found while researching basilisk-avoidance, confirmed an empty space below one of the sinks.

Jenny and Akuma prepared and plotted. Expecting as many as a dozen basilisks, they did not go rushing in. Their real goal wasn't killing the serpents, but stopping the Heir of Slytherin.

On Tuesday, second week of May, Jenny slipped on her double-layered flame retardant dragonhide gloves, and stole Harry's wand from the infirmary's locked possessions cabinet. Noticing it, she also nicked his invisibility cloak. Comfortably snug, her iridescent red arm length gloves arrived in March, having been special ordered over the Christmas holidays. Right around the time Jenny called Amanda long distance, and explained she'd be handling this situation.

Loaded with silencing and scent-masking charms, Akuma added night vision and camouflage before blindly teleporting to the equation mapped danger area underneath the sink. Finding no traces of Basilisks except for shed skins, the devil-doll carefully mapped the main chamber and pipe-chute attached into it in near-total darkness. She did not map the additional openings to the dozens of space warping pipe-tunnels leading off the main chamber. She opened the snake-embossed spell locked door between the antechamber and the inner chamber from inside, before retreating.

By 3 A.M. Wednesday morning, an elaborate network of silencing and vibration dampening spells was in place. Wishing herself luck, Jenny destroyed the sink above the opening by firing a full strength demolition curse through Harry's wand.

Tossing on two eye patches, a blindfold, and Harry's invisibility cloak, Jenny added the obscure synesthesia spell, scent masking, and used the Dome of Selective Silence. The only outgoing noise not filtered by the dome would be verbalized magical spells. With Akuma scouting ahead, Jenny slid down the chute, and entered the Chamber of Secrets.

Synesthesia is a cross-wiring of senses, where one stimuli produces a reaction in a different sense. For Jenny, who had tuned the spell-experiences over a month of practice, the feel of air currents and taste of air gave a rough visual of space. Enough for fighting. Gazes of giant lizards were of no concern, though she lost reaction time.

Inching forward carefully, Jenny entered the Chamber of Secrets. Wards for detecting visitors did not trigger. Finding no living basilisks among the marble columns, she began exploring the side tunnels. In the third such passage, she found the first giant sleeping basilisk.

One half of the (suspected) mated pair, this basilisk definitely petrified Harry. Jenny's cross-wired senses told her part of its face had been blasted off and scarred. She couldn't tell if it really was missing an eye, but the weak point was large enough for her to take action.

Trusting Akuma would dodge, Jenny parted the invisibility cloak enough for one red glove and Harry's wand to peek out. Hiding behind an ugly carved serpent statue, she prepared to break cover. She didn't know, but the darkness inside the tunnels made invisibility a needless precaution.

"_Reducto,_" said Jenny, and then dove back behind the statue as swiftly as she could.

With her full magical strength behind it, the curse shot out of Harry's wand and hit the damaged face of the sleeping basilisk. Powering past the innate protections of the magical creature, the spell worked. It worked well. In a gore filled explosion Jenny didn't hear and didn't see, the head of the huge basilisk exploded. Highly toxic potion ingredients splattered over the tunnel, but not on Jenny.

Noting the body of the huge lizard completely blocked the rest of the way, Jenny carefully retreated. She could only hope the other basilisks would not find her first. As carefully as she could, Jenny explored the rest of the hidden tunnels, inching her way slowly and thoroughly.

Five grueling hours later, she had encountered no other foes. The closest she'd come to another battle was finding the already dead corpse of her first kill from the other side. By then it's death throes finished and the great serpent was obviously dead. She could smell the foul blood still leaking.

She might be finished, barring the chance the other basilisks didn't move around during the night. That's where Akuma's part came in. Making her way with greater haste (but some caution), Jenny retraced her steps into a curving dead-end area.

By now Akuma should have dispelled any and all silencing and warding spells around the Chamber of Secrets. Still shrouded in her null sense construction, Jenny gave the signal using her own wand.

"_Accio_ Akuma," she said.

The doll became magically pulled into her hand, and pinched Jenny's thumb. Akuma, unstoned, popped off.

Jenny counted ten minutes, slowly and methodically in her head, on guard for the appearance of dozens of basilisks. Slaying abilities active, she waited.

Nothing happened.

The adrenaline crash hit Jenny like a wrecking ball as she removed her blindfold and two eye patches in the silent darkness. Several _Finite Incantums_ and a _Lumos_ later, she shrugged off the invisibility cloak and listened to Akuma's report:

"Saturation crowing completed. Guldo the rooster has been returned safely to his barn in Godric's Hollow. No eggs found. No young basilisks encountered. Swept the tunnels completely after the cockerel concert."

"I can't believe we only fought one! We were prepared for dozens, and could have handled a hundred." Disappointed, frustrated, happy, and relieved, Jenny put the invisibility cloak back on over Akuma and herself.

"Did you repair the entrance?" She asked, returning to the main chamber at a slow walk.

"As best as I could with multiple _Reparos_. Took a lot out of me, even with increased reserves, I'm only nine inches tall." Akuma stretched out on Jenny's head, under the cloak.

"The crowing should have echoed across the school. The Heir to Slytherin should be here soon enough to check on his pet. Was there at least Domes of Selective Silence preventing rooster crowing?" Asked Jenny.

"Yes. One for each tunnel."

Settling down on the huge throne, created by Salzaar Slytherin in his egocentric heyday, the two waited invisible. Not falling asleep during those three patient hours was the hardest task of all.

Whatever Jenny expected, it wasn't the first year red-headed girl. Ginny rushed down into the chamber, dismayed by the smell of blood. Retrieving a slim book from a secret compartment inside a snake statue's mouth, she opened it and began writing as fast as she could.

A translucent young man appeared, hovering outside the opened book. "You stupid bitch." He snarled. "I've been discovered. Ginny, I trusted you, but you betrayed me with your incompetence."

In tears, the poor girl looked at the older ghost, pleading with her eyes. He turned away, scanning the room. Disinterested, he said, "Your energy will serve a purpose. Die now."

With a muffled scream, the first year girl collapsed unconscious, and the phantasm began slowly becoming more solid. Neither the sixth year girl not the nine-inch doll liked this development.

Speaking from invisibility, Jenny addressed her opponent.

"Tell us, Heir of Slytherin, did you know suspect our countermeasures before you controlled Ginny into spying on the Violet Badgers?"

The ghostly projection searched the room nervously for an opponent. Not finding one, he gave an answer, stalling.

"I didn't know about the Dome of Selective Silence until a week after your team discovered it. Hermoine Granger told Ron Weasley, who told his family, which included dear Ginerva. You had a week's window of time, where a blitzkrieg rooster assault, _sonorous_ at all castle corridors, would have killed my precious pet."

"Too bad, so sad," Mocked Akuma, causing schoolboy Tom to turn his back to them, fooled by her projected voice.

"Like last year, you aren't prepared enough Tom. Maybe if you had a few more weeks to leech energy." At Jenny's pronouncement, the solidifying ghost looked panicked. That voice came from his right. He couldn't leave the area until fully energized.

"Goodbye, Mr. Riddle," said Akuma, from a fourth direction.

"Wait, I can offer you power, riches, fame if you join—"

"_Incendiomega_." Jenny staggered as she used the strongest fire spell in existence, able to out burn dragon's fire and hotter than the surface of the sun.

The red fiery torrent was angled in such a way that it passed completely through the still forming semi-solid incarnation of Lord Voldemort, and hit the diary behind him. The light and heat from the flames made Jenny step back and left a streaking red afterimage across her vision. The book burst into fluorescent pink flames, swiftly consumed. Ink evaporated into a foul smelling vaporous miasma that drifted up into the ceiling of the Chamber of Secrets.

Schoolboy Tom Riddle vanished with his container, in a terrified orange flaming implosion. Jenny put Harry's wand away and rubbed her eyes.

"Grandpa always said Voldemort was a pussy," said Jenny, removing the invisibility cloak. "Now Grindlewald, there was a proper Dark Lord. No divisive blood purity killing spree shite, just an iron fist of power. Who cares what type of wizard rules, as long as we do?"

Looking at the red-headed first year girl sprawled off to the side, Jenny sighed. "Bloody Weasels. Amanda warned me they were troublemakers, and to keep my distance. Dumb firstie better thank me later."

Casting _mobilicorpus_, Jenny levitated the unconscious body of Ginny behind her as she made her way out of the Chamber of Secrets. Now her Hufflepuff housemates, who'd she convinced into ignoring her, would want to kiss her arse. Yet again.

It turned out worse than she imagined. Thanks to her heroism, at the end of the term Hufflepuff won the house cup for the first time, well, ever. Professor Pomona Sprout, crying in happiness at the honor bestowed during the last Hogwart's feast, hugged Jenny and whispered in her ear.

"I knew you were really a good girl at heart. I'll do what I can to make sure you're a prefect for your last year."

Disentangling herself before the head of her house messed up her long brown hair, Jenny spotted the Violet Badgers trying not to laugh at her. Neville gave her thumbs up, and Ron, Hermoine, and Luna quickly copied him. Being a hero sucked. Her older sister would tease her about this for years.

-------------------

Harry heard his small guardian angel's demise, as she was smashed into hundreds of shards of stone. Foolish, he opened his eyes and was petrified through a veil of tears, instead of dying from locking gazes with a basilisk.

One second later, he was in a hospital bed inside the school infirmary. An animated angelic doll with gray wings that wasn't Akuma or Tenshi hovered anxiously near his face. She looked taller than his poor companion, an inch or two. Jenny stood next to his bed, but she looked changed.

Her long brown hair was in a functional ponytail, instead of the elaborate braided hairstyles she favored. Her cheeks had lost the last baby fat, and instead of overweight and indolent, Jenny looked lean and haggard. Like she'd won a competition or marathon after pulling two all-nighters. She still had the same silver-framed glasses, but she no longer faded into the background. Command presence. Jenny had developed an unconscious command presence, much like Amanda radiated.

"What happened?" Croaked Harry. Noticing the glass of water by his bedside, he drank.

Jenny told him. Akuma filled in the gaps.

"Thank you, my friends," said Harry, when they finished.

Jenny hugged him, and Harry hugged her back. It wasn't a short hug. Akuma joined after a few seconds.

"Tenshi." Harry paused, fighting the words out. "She's gone, isn't she?"

"A part of her lives on inside me, and inside your heart." Akuma bowed her head.

The two friends let Harry cry as long as he needed to, holding him the entire time.

------------

The encounter took place in a clearing of the forest primeval, metaphoric for all forests on all worlds. The massive trees towered into the skies above, but the fauna normally present had hidden themselves away. The cropped grass held two challengers, each less than a foot high. Both stood on large moss covered stones, two feet apart, so they could face each other properly.

"_Expecto Patronous Petite_!" Tenshi's ghost, with a golden halo on top her of her head, hopped into the small five-foot glimmering white transparent X-Wing that appeared.

"_Expecto Patronous Petite_!" Akuma climbed into her own miniature black auric TIE-fighter.

Battle was joined in graceful whirls and strafes. Both magically conjured machines spat red _reducto_ spells from their weapons apertures, blowing divots through the clearing and causing soil and undergrowth to crackle, burn, and explode. Then Tenshi broke off and Akuma followed. They dueled through the Forest at unsafe, impossible speeds.

Akuma was crying. "You stupid angel!" She called over her vehicle's communication system. "We were supposed to have a grand battle at the end of the year. Light versus dark, woman on woman, forcesabre wands crackling. Now I'll never prove conclusively aggression trumps passivity, you jedi witch."

"Hahaha!" Came the answering hail of high-pitched tinny laughter. "Your raw emotions blind you, foolish demon. This is that battle. You merged with enough of me that the location is a dreamscape, but that doesn't make it less real. The force of magic flows through all."

"What!?" Akuma felt incredibly happy, and in that moment of weakness her opponent stuck. Multiple red _reducto_ blasts hit the TIE-fighter's ghost, disrupting the magical structure. Going into a crazy spin, Akuma and her vehicle crashed into an irontrunked monster of a tree. An Acromantula-Ewok gibbered in excitement from its web above.

Tenshi popped out of her X-Wing, which vanished in a white shimmer of magic. "I am victorious Amanda Hawking!" She hollered. "The light side inside you is stronger than even you believe."

------

"What the heaven happened to you?" Jenny asked her doll the next morning in Yorkshire, after gulping caffeinated tea delivered by her solicitous house elf, Pippy.

The gray wings Akuma had recovered from Tenshi were now white, and so were her own set of smaller decorative bat wings. Her tail seemed a bit shorter, and had turned from black to gray. She'd also grown another inch, bringing her height to ten inches tall.

"Lost a metaphysical fight with myself. Don't ask," said Akuma.

"You still you?" Jenny wanted to make sure, given the insanities Amanda's magic dolls stumbled into. (Stupid basilisk.) When she didn't get an immediate answer, Jenny began her day. She wanted to buy gifts and tell her grandpa about the school year.

Adopting a thinking position atop Jenny's head, the doll considered for minutes before speaking. "_More_ dominant, is A-_ku_-ma's form. Yet Tenshi is in _I_. Magic is strong in this one." Realizing Jenny needed to watch Star Wars to understand a Yoda impression, the doll popped near Jenny's face and fluttered. "Call me Kumori now."

"Now I really can't wait to see what Amanda will say when she sees you again." Jenny and Harry were spending the summer with Amanda in America, and their flight left in three days. They'd been promised tourism, good food, and movie marathons.

"She'll be pleased. Neither of us knew what we really had inside. Now pardon me, I have to break in this ludicrous hybrid form. Think those gnomes in the flower maze heeded my warning last summer? I certainly hope not!" Kumori popped off with a displacement of air and maniacal laughter.


	12. Chapter 8

**Summer Memories**

------------------------------------------------

The flight to America was long and boring, but at least Jenny and Harry sat next to each other in first class. Cruising at fifteen thousand feet, sitting inside roomy brown leather ergonomic recliners, they'd started talking about the end of the year while sampling honey-roasted airline peanuts.

Proud of getting top grades in her four classes, Jenny's bragging brought out what had happened to Harry. He'd gotten his grades before he left too.

"For me, the good news is I passed History of Magic and Lockhart's Defense class. The bad news is I failed Transfiguration and Potions, worst in the class. That means I don't have to repeat my entire second year, and I can take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy with other third years."

"Ha! Welcome to the failures club, Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived joins the Heir of Hufflepuff and the first female Dark Lord in repeating a grade at Hogwarts."

"Not the entire year." Harry frowned. "I passed Herbology too." What went unsaid is that he failed Charms and Care of Magical Creatures.

"Close enough."

"Making up five and half months of classes and spells a couple weeks before finals isn't possible," protested Harry. "You'd have to be a obsessive genius to pull it off, or already have read the coursework in advance."

"Let me offer advice, fellow problem student. Take Divination. Trelawney is a moron. You can make stuff up and get top marks. She's fun to tease too, and the other students in the class are 'easy' if you play the dating game." Jenny laughed, having played the field during her first fifth year.

Harry sighed. He'd planned on continuing the classes he'd passed with the other third years, and using 'free' slots to make up Potions and Transfiguration until he could stop taking them. That meant his schedule included those two classes, Charms, Herbology, DADA, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. Dumbledore told Harry he could test out of History of Magic, since he'd read so many library biographies and historical treatises.

"Now explain this 'in-flight theater' again," said Jenny.

Picking up a set of headphones, Harry clued his pureblood friend into the real world.

-----------------------

Those ten weeks with Amanda were the best of Harry's life. Amanda had successfully completed her first year at a local community college's registered nursing program. She celebrated by dragging her friends on a road trip across America. Her Mom, who Jenny and Harry met briefly, couldn't go because of her job.

Using her allowance, Jenny rented a top-of-the-line R.V. Amanda did the driving and enchantments. She used an everfull charm on the gas tank, and a wizard space expansion inside. Harry slept on the couch in a corner of the living room and watched movies and anime nonstop with Kumori. Amanda helped Harry with exercises for strengthening his connection with magic.

They hit Six Flags, Disney World, Yellowstone, and a bunch of museums and art galleries the girls insisted on. (Las Vegas was next year, when Jenny could legally gamble.) Though the trip was a blast, it didn't come tension free. Harry let his mind wander backwards, as the Hogwarts Express began moving.

-------------

"So what happened with the dolls? Jen told me you spent some time petrified, but she'd handle the problem." After hugs and hellos it was the first question Amanda asked her international friends near the baggage pick-up conveyor belt.

"Um, er," said Jenny, fascinated by the white sundress Amanda wore.

"Better if we show you in private." Harry nervously looked at a large green suitcase with purple stripes.

Following his gaze, Amanda blinked. "I've never seen that kind of anti-apparition ward before. Did you elf-nap Pippy and Snappy from Yorkshire?"

Looking uncomfortable, Jenny shook her head in a negative. "Amanda? Remember how you told us about the off button?"

Finishing the wandless featherlight charms on her friend's luggage, Amanda picked up Harry's trunk. "Yep, nothing says 'shut-up you annoying wooden wannabe' like a _Stupefy_ to the head."

"That doesn't work anymore." Harry deliberately wasn't looking at Amanda when he said it. The automatic sliding glass airport doors to the outside opened as he walked away, pulling Jenny's trunk along on two wheels.

"What?" Squawked Amanda, chasing him outside into the sunshine.

"Stunning and petrification are now useless. It happened after we killed a basilisk." Jenny carried the doll's prison suitcase. "Grandpa helped me with the wards, and Harry tricked Kumori inside. At least she won't be pissed at _me_."

"It is best if Kumori shows you." Harry nodded. "That way Jenny and I can escape safely."

"Fine, fine." Leading them to her rent-a-wreck, Amanda stiffened, and then continued walking. "Akuma and Tenshi merged then?"

"On the bright side, Kumori mellowed out and doesn't constantly pick fights," said Jenny.

"On the dark side, Kumori now enjoys teasing those she once fought," said Harry.

Amanda groaned. "Did you two give her something to do in there, aside from plotting revenge?"

"Does a small portable telly and a bunch of romance novels count?"

"Jen, please tell me you made sure the telly had enough juice in the batteries for the full trip." Amanda hated trashy romance novels, and therefore the dolls would too.

Jenny remained silent, stowing their luggage inside Amanda's battered blue Ford station wagon.

"Kumori could recharge the batteries, right? A charm for that must exist." Harry buckled his seatbelt.

"Yeah, a charm like that exists. I've never been able to cast it without blowing the batteries to hell. Too much delicate precision." Amanda started the car, and pulled out of her parking space.

"Sorry Amanda," said Jenny.

"Sorry Amanda," said Harry. "But hey, this'll make you laugh: Jenny is now the Heir of Hufflepuff."

It did. Keeping her eyes on the road became a small challenge for Amanda. "OK, you two are forgiven. Now how did _that_ happen?"

--------------

After a cheerful supper, Amanda drove her rented wreck (alone) to a parking area on the North Carolina highway. Removing the green suitcase with purple stripes, she dragged it out of sight, into a wooded area set aside for picnics. Making sure none of the muggles stopping for bathroom breaks saw, she slipped into the forest and walked three hundred feet. The underbrush scratched her unsleeved arms as she dragged the baggage in, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.

Setting up a slapdash silencing and camouflage perimeter, Amanda hesitantly clicked the lock open on the suitcase, and jumped back.

The ugly piece of luggage exploded, embedding green plastic shrapnel inside nearby tree trunks. A hovering ball of yellow-red power contracted, until Kumori remained, standing on a gray hovering discus that crackled with yellow electricity. A strange green substance covered part of her tight black pants.

She looked as pissed as a twelve inch small female angel doll with black hot pants, a tiny blunt gray tail, and a white boogie top can get. Amanda's red _Stupefy_ crackled harmlessly around Kumori, gaining her attention and ire.

"Over forty hours in sensory deprivation hell." Kumori fluttered her gray wings, and pushed off her spinning discus perch, sending it flying straight at Amanda's head.

Amanda ducked.

The disk tore through three tree trunks before tearing a slim, deep gash into the forested soil. Amanda groaned, knowing what the merged doll was theoretically capable of.

"_Glacius_." Quick-drawing her wand, Amanda watched the doll become entombed in a large transparent ice mass. She seized the brief moment of opportunity and cast powerful binding and restraining barriers around the dollsicle.

Three seconds later the ice prison exploded and vaporized into steam. Amanda heard a popping sound like a plastic bag full of air burst, but the vapor fog camouflaged Kumori's position.

"Flying Wingslam!" Allowing the momentum from the hard blow against her low back to carry her into a shoulder roll, Amanda twisted herself around and came back up fighting. The obscure manacle curse flew at Kumori, made obsolete by the stunning hex, it covered the target in ropes, chains, and restraints.

With another 'Pop!' Kumori appeared behind Amanda and slammed her into the ground face-first. "More powerful creator, my enchanted bum. You cleaned the battery acid off my outfit. I won't let you use rituals, and your skills have atrophied this past year. I think it is time we re-evaluated the power balance in this relationship." The doll's high tinny voice sounded loud in Amanda's ear, but Kumori avoided the hand that swatted.

Grunting at smacking herself on the side of her head, Amanda spat out dirt, and stood. "Stupid doll, you may have new tricks, but I will always be your master. Now stop annoying me. Report. Have you identified the Order of the Phoenix?"

Kumori disappeared. Amanda felt several small stunners hit the back of her legs, and yelped as her muscles tightened into knots. This farce needed an end.

"_Asperame Juvant_." A crimson beam of light shot forth from the tip of Amanda's wand, solidifying into a solid crimson sword-beam. The air hummed around it. Taking a deep breath, the annoyance and distaste faded from her face, leaving only serenity. Amanda closed her eyes.

The next time Kumori popped up for an attack at strange angle in Amanda's blind spot, she was struck by the spellsword. Crimson sparks erupted around her, and she sailed ten feet uncontrollably into the air, before vanishing. Her next five attacks met similar, humiliating retaliations. Knowing she couldn't protect herself much longer, Kumori appeared a good distance away from Amanda.

"I yield, master," said the doll. "I have found nothing on the Order of the Phoenix. Our suspicion it is a black-ops Ministry approved group like the Unspeakables has not been validated."

"This proves difficult. Brace for memory sharing; I want to understand the basilisk encounter from your perspectives."

Kumori lowered her mental walls, and sorted the memories of the basilisk fight and aftermath inside her mind. A feeling of pressure, supportive and not hurtful filled her mind.

"Wow, I didn't appreciate how large a basilisk could become. I can't believe how suicidally brave your predecessors were. Maybe forming you took more from me that I realized." Amanda rubbed her forehead.

"Master, you really believe Voldemort survived the Light of Stabbing Accomodation?" Kumori had both given and received in memories and experiences.

Amanda picked up the doll gently and started back towards her car. "Yes, his hoarcruxes serve as anchors for his shade. That spirit-form bastard took my best attack and survived. Recovering will take a couple years, but he'll return."

"Shouldn't we strike swiftly now? Eliminate the threat for good?" Kumori purred as Amanda stroked her back, fixing the damage she'd sustained from her earlier rash attack.

"The Order of the Phoenix gets priority now. Voldemort won't be back this year, and his power base is nowhere near America. If the Order is anything like the American Sorcery Police League, then they have international outreach and can strike at me here. One problem at a time, or I risk overextending myself."

"Master, do I have permission to punish Harry and Jenny for tricking inside a portable prison chamber?"

Amanda nodded. "Right after I give them the news about Voldemort. Don't leave visible marks, but making them understand imprisonment hurts is okay."

--------------

Remembering his chastisement drew Harry back to the present moment. They'd been delayed at the airport, in part because Kumori refused her pet carrier. After missing their first flight, the doll agreed to be good inside in exchange for riding on the plane.

She'd nearly gave a fat woman in coach a heart attack by popping outside, walking on the plane wings, and making scary illusions by her window. Then she'd spent a few hours masquerading as an invisible spirit-friend for twin Russian five-years olds. Harry wasn't sure who babysat who.

Exhausted and jet-lagged Harry and Jenny barely made it onto the Hogwarts express in time. They'd be writing letters for family at the castle, as they didn't even have time for homecomings. Their trunks and school supplies would be arriving from Jenny's Yorkshire estate by express owl post, magically shrunk, later in the week.

Luckily their luggage from America contained a couple sets of wizarding robes. Jenny slept on her side of their private compartment. (Private by virtue of tossing everyone else out and disillusioning the door.) Harry continued memory organization, a useful skill from Amanda. It built a strong foundation for Occlumency, which wasn't magical as much as mental fortitude.

Harry had barely covered his roller coaster rides over the summer when his magical sense went crazy cold. He'd never felt anything quite like this before; almost as if the joy of his cherished memories forever became diminished.

A loud bang made Jenny groan and sit up. Kumori fluttered into the open, hyped for battle, indicating this was not an engine problem. Whatever this danger was, Harry didn't like it. A strange intuition told him whatever orchestrated this; a large side bonus awaited the Thing who took out the Boy-Who-Lived.

He shivered, and tensed for the inevitable.

-----------

AN: "Aspera me juvant" is latin. It means either 'violence delights me' or 'difficulties help me.' Probably the later, but both are appropriate. The phrase can be found carved into late Roman/early medieval swords.


	13. Chapter 9 Part I

Chapter Nine – Third Year

-----------

The train slowed, and Harry felt a strange rattling vibration against his magical senses. Everything went dark. Jenny cast _lumos_, lighting their compartment. A minute later, the express began moving again.

The lights flickered, and friends found they were no longer alone. Kumori growled, a humming, predatory sound magnified by her beating wings.

"What is that Thing?" Harry backed away from the vile, smoky wraith now inside their train compartment. It ignored the carefully constructed wards and disillusion, somehow traveling across shadows.

"Dementor," Jenny faced the creature. "I don't what you want, but leave us in peace or be destroyed."

Moving near Harry, the dark shade began feeding, glowing tendrils soared from Harry's head into its tattered black cowl. The Boy-Who-Lived wore an expression of terror on his face, as if darkness invaded his mind, and bone-chilling cold suffused the area, not physical temperature, but spiritual desolation.

"_Expecto Patronus Petite_!" Kumori acted.

A ghostly dull-metallic seven-foot long cylinder materialized into the compartment, taking up most of the available space. With a Pop!, Kumori entered her craft.

"A strange bumpy muggle garbage can? That's your Patronus?" Jenny wasn't impressed.

Faster than the eye could follow, close to a hundred small red flares streaked out of the hovering object, hitting the Dementor. After a brilliant flash of silvery-red light, the cold feeling of despair lifted from Jenny's heart. Of the Dementor, nothing remained.

Harry groaned, and looked at the corporeal Patronus. "It wasn't a dream! The _Millennium Falcon_ just unloaded turbo-laser batteries on that evil thing's leeching arse." Despite a thousand tons of coldness weighing on his heart, Harry smiled. Not a nice smile, but still a smile.

"You OK Harry?" Asked Jenny as Kumori returned, the magical replica of the _Millennium Falcon_ fading away around her.

"As much as I'd thought I'd never be happy again, I'm celebrating now," said Harry. "Kumori, that was amazing."

The door banged open, the six layers of privacy warding having been dispelled. The strange man who looked in found Harry's and Jenny's wands pointed at him. He didn't notice Kumori silently hovering above his head, prepared for threat disposal.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of black wizard's robes, patched in multiple areas. Though young, he looked ill and exhausted, and his washed out brown hair contained flecks of gray.

He introduced himself as Remus Lupin, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for Hogwarts. Lockhart tendered his resignation in May last year, disappointing Harry, who loved his fangirl-embarrassing classes.

"Jenova Hecate?" Asked Remus.

Jenny nodded in distaste at her full legal name.

"The other prefects are looking for you. Something about missing the first of many important meetings," said Professor Lupin.

Harry laughed, and then looked surprised at his ability to laugh. "Go, Heir of Hufflepuff. Your court awaits."

Shooting him a dirty look, Jenny left, dreading the boring academic smackdown. Those preppy wizards would soon understand the hard way she really wasn't cut out for joining their ranks.

Professor Lupin pulled out a square of chocolate, and passed it to Harry. "Eat. The coldness will lessen. Though I do wonder what happened, I don't see the Dementor I sensed."

"Kumori vaporized it," said Harry around a mouthful of dark chocolate.

Lupin looked stunned, and re-examined the compartment, not finding another person.

"Above you," said Harry, nodding at his vigilant hovering guardian, who still had her mini-wand pointed at the crown of Lupin's graying hair.

Slowly, the ragged man looked up. Kumori waved down at him, still covering him with her small sliver of a wand.

"You don't look like any sort of fairy godmother I've ever heard of. How did you drive it away?" Professor Lupin's exhaustion banished his surprise, leaving professional courtesy behind.

"She cast _Expecto Patronus Petite,_" said Harry.

"That would mean your main _Patronus_ is somehow unsuitable." Lupin stared at the hovering doll.

Kumori spoke. "That's true. My main Patron is overkill for a single soul-drinking creature. It's meant for larger groups, and requires much charging time."

"Well, I see this area is well protected. I may send other Dementor-sensitive students here, if I find them. Mr. Potter, nice meeting you." With that, Professor Lupin left.

-----------

Her useless meeting finished, Jenny approached the compartment she'd staked out with Harry. Kumori's voice drifted out.

". . and then the big bad witch McGonnalish huffed and puffed and blew the house made out of fragile glass potion vials into shards and splinters. Unlike his ghost-brother Peeves, the poor piggy named Snip-snape couldn't phase through the falling walls, and was transfigured into a tasty gingerbread man. . . ."

Looking inside, Jenny saw Kumori standing upon Harry's head and entertaining four younger students who looked unusually pale. Suddenly she was struck by how Harry had grown, though still short, he'd passed five feet during the summer.

Waiting for a pause, Jenny entered, her prefect's badge displayed on her school robes. Silent, she sat behind the enraptured children and listened.

"Tell us another, Godmother K," said an unsorted first year blonde girl.

"Yeah, but this time make Filch and Mrs. Norris suffer." A fat second year Hufflepuff wanted his revenge, no matter how small. The other kids add their pleas, and Kumori began another fairytale the brother's Grimm would have enjoyed.

------------

"Luna!" Harry poked her in the shoulder. Luna's mind returned from whatever happy place it occupied. Her gaze became purposeful, rather than vacant, and she looked at Harry, intense.

Around them, the feast hall filled with students from the Express. The requirement of sitting at house tables during the feast meant Jenny's besiegement by worshipping Hufflepuffs. Harry had stopped laughing at her after five minutes, and moved into sympathy. The candles, ghosts, and sky-illusion on the ceiling went far in convincing the muggleborn first years of magic's nature.

"Luna, stop disintegrating me with your eyes." Luna looked away from Harry. "Now tell me why everyone is on edge, and why those soul leeches didn't surprise the teaching staff."

Still gazing at the crystal chandelier hanging from the night sky with no support, Luna spoke in her dreamy voice: "Sirius Black, who killed thirteen muggles in a single spell, escaped from the wizarding prison, Azkaban. As his actions directly led to the death of James and Lily Potter, popular public opinions go with 'he'd like to finish the job.' Last issue poll, the _Quibbler_, with the second most popular answer being 'travel to Bangkok and revel in debauchery and feeling.' "

Stunned into silence, Harry closed his eyes and thought. He'd read his own history in the annals of the Wizarding World long ago, and made his peace with the incarceration of his parent's murderer and Godfather. Still, knowing the man who'd betrayed his parent's had escaped and might be coming for him filled Harry with dread.

Mental wheels spinning in circles, Harry missed the sorting. A poke in his shoulder from Luna returned him to reality just in time for the last of Dumbledore's announcements.

"Our school is presently hosting some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at the entrances to the school grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain – nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises, or even invisibility cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses." Dumbledore paused, making sure his students understood the gravity of the threat. "I therefore warn each and every one of you, give them no reason to harm you."

Jenny grimaced as she stood with the other prefects, the protectors of the school. Already she'd been credited with the defeat of the Dementor on the _Hogwarts Express_. Soon enough, food magically appeared in the feast hall, and she was stewarding stupid-looking first years into Hufflepuff.

---------

"How could he escape?" Thinking of his Godfather, Harry paced across a small windowless study room inside Ravenclaw Tower. Two torches acted like fluorescent lighting, illuminating two small desks and a picture of a forested scene on the far wall.

"Magic." Luna stared at Harry again. "This fascinating question will be explored in the next edition of the _Quibbler_. How could Sirius Black resist the will draining Dementors, and overcome the anti-apparition wards that make Azkaban an impregnable fortress? What hidden area of the black arts is required for such an escape?"

Harry stopped his nervous pacing, and turned to Luna Lovegood's intense gaze. "You're not helping."

"Is it an ancient Egyptian invulnerability ritual, or perhaps something as simple as partitioning his mind? Maybe like the Native American Sioux shamans, he could spirit walk away from his body, and then call his body to his spirit's location." Luna nodded, that was the one she believed. "Of course, he could have had inside help, the Dementors have a history of serving the Darkest Lords."

Walking over to his friend, Harry interrupted her tangent by waving his hand in front of her face. "Luna, do really think my parent's betrayer is coming to kill me?"

Embracing Harry in a hug, Luna whispered a reassurance in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll make sure you have the best robes on during your funeral."

Stiffening, Harry was all set on storming into his room and worrying himself into non-sleep when a huge cloud of pink smoke obscured the exit.

"I thought Demenetors didn't have fashion sense," said Luna from behind Harry, her wand out.

BAMF!

The strange sound echoed through the room, and the smoke cleared away revealing Kumori. Her appearance changed, the doll now stood at eigthteen inches, had small pink horns protruding from her head, and wore a tight-fitting black faux-lyrca bodysuit with a large K emblazoned across her chest. Her long pink tail and gray wings protruded from gaps in the clothing.

"After a good deal of soul searching and personal reluctance, Jenny assigned me as your bodyguard this year. I'll still visit her during some nights, but as long as Siruis Black remains at large, you are stuck with me." Kumori bowed in mid-air.

Harry smiled, his rage and fear forgotten. "We knew Nightcrawler was your favorite character in those comics, but how?" Harry gestured at her costume.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" Kumori blurred, reappearing hovering in front of Harry's face. "Let's just say alot of tasty magic remains for harvesting inside the Chamber of Secrets."

"What are you?" Luna approached the hovering doll and stared with hungry curiosity.

"A wayfarer from the infernal dimensions, the shining soul of the Boy-Who-Lived beckoned me to pause my eternal journey. Fallen fairy-godmother by day, by night I am the super-powerful bodyguard of the netherworld -- Keening Fury!"

Luna nodded, believing every word.

Kumori continued spinning out her false heroic backstory. Better than being a Japanese pocket monster, this situation had great potential rewards.

--------------------------

The first week of school was hellish. Despite the core-building exercises Amanda tortured him with that summer Harry was still magically exhausted. Having to cast spells in both Ancient Runes and Defense pushed his abilities into overload. He could handle three classes and associated spellwork, a step up from last year. Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, DADA (with a competent teacher), Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes required parts of his magic power. Six classes needing magic was double the drain he'd shouldered last year.

Snape took particular delight in using Harry as an example to the second-year Potions students as to what might happen if they slacked off. Harry flinched when the man compared his intelligence unfavorably to Crabbe and Goyle, calling him Ravenclaw's disgrace. McGonnal took an opposite view, assigning enough extra projects for triple-failure-insurance. If Harry bombed all her exams, she wouldn't see him again next year, since his extra work would more than guarantee a passing grade. Flitwick's remedial Charms followed the same plan with extra assignments.

The crushing workload devoured Harry's available free time. Too busy to worry about the possible vengeance of Sirius Black, Harry endured. When the guest-Dementor approached him during Care of Magical Creatures, Kumori blasted it with a glowing beam of light. Hagrid used the stunned leech as an example for the one failure and the other second years, as to what dangerous things lurked in the Forbidden Forest. An enjoyable lesson, as the class took turns poking it with a long stick. The thing survived, and floated off in an embarrassed way afterward.

Finally, Friday afternoon rolled around, and Harry found himself sitting near the Gryffindors in Defense. Kumori sat Indian-style on his head, invisible under her notice-me-not enchantments. Remus nodded at her respectfully before the start of class and she'd saluted back.

During the orientation of the syllabus, Harry heard whispering.

"Keep Crookshanks away from my rat, Hermoine. Poor Scabbers is sick or something. Normally he sleeps all day, but lately he's been skittish, like he's afraid." One seat behind Harry, Ron Weasley thought nothing of interrupting Lupin's introductory lecture with a conversation.

"Not during class, Ron!" Hermoine hiss-whispered at him, hoping for silence. She hoped in vain.

"Yeah, Ron, the rat isn't as important as the Buckbeak situation. Did you see how he went for Malfoy earlier? That Slytherin prat is plotting a despicable revenge. We have to stop him!" Neville finished his impassioned plea a little too loud.

The entire class stared at him. One seat over, Hermoine put her hand over her face and sighed in resignation.

"What a fascinating story, Mr. Longbottom, please continue, I'm sure it is much more important than the class I am trying to teach." Neville's face turned red. He'd wanted to impress Professor Lupin somehow, but hadn't been careful in what he wished for.

"Ah, that's all right, sir. I'm sorry for interrupting, it won't happen again." Neville managed a meek, stutter-free reply.

"Not a problem, Mr. Longbottom. I'd hate to penalize your housemates by taking points away, so instead you can give me two feet of parchment on why you believed 'The Buckbeak Situation' was so important you interrupted my wonderful introductory lecture. Due promptly Monday morning." Remus nodded at Neville, who winced, but nodded back.

No other interruptions occurred during class, but Lupin motioned Harry to stay after.

As the last student left for lunch, Harry remained. Professor Lupin cast several spells Harry recognized as inferior privacy wardings. While they didn't prevent lip reading or scrying, they were good enough for most secrets.

"Headmaster Dumbledore told me your magic levels, Harry. I understand you've gotten more comfortable using your powers, but we both decided holding you back another year would not be wise. You get exhausted with normal spellwork, right?" Lupin's nostrils flared, as if he could smell truth.

"Yes sir, I do." Harry looked uncomfortable. Magic capacity for male wizards was a great deal like the size of a male muggle's wanker -- not a topic a males enjoyed admitting inadequacy in.

"As my student, I find this unacceptable. I know of a solution, and buck up for now. Next Friday, I'll make sure you can be just another normal student." Remus Lupin gave Harry a fatherly pat on the back.

Hope blossomed inside Harry's heart. He ruthlessly quashed it.

"An expert authority has told me magical rituals for expanding my core powers aren't advisable until I'm at least 14 years old. Anything done prematurely will interact negatively with my growing core and may cause permanent harm." Amanda promised she'd help him out next summer, which was still two years earlier than she felt comfortable with.

Professor Lupin looked surprised Harry had investigated. "This isn't a ritual. It's a restricted item from the Government's Department of Mysteries. One student your age is already using a similar item with a different purpose, so it won't be much of a stretch to extend the 'rental'."

BAMF!

After a small dramatic cloud of pink smoke, Kumori dropped her neutrality and got into Professor Lupin's face. She poked his nose tip, right between the nostrils. "A Heartstring Talisman is a dangerous artifact! If Sirius Black steals it, or goes it critical, the consequences will damn us all."

Lupin retreated from the eighteen-inch tall hovering doll. "It's no more dangerous than Harry's wand. As Harry's teacher, I judge the risks worthwhile, and have approved the Headmaster's request."

"_Finite Incantum_." Kumori ended the privacy barrier. "This meeting is over, Harry and I will discuss this, and if he insists, I'll allow the artifact's usage. Be aware, as Harry's interim bodyguard, I detest this development."

Before Remus could say another word, Kumori ushered Harry out of the classroom, dragging him by an earlobe.

-------------

AN: Chapter nine is complete and will be posted in four parts; look for the rest over the next couple weeks.


	14. Chapter 9 Part II

9.2 Schooling

Harry insisted.

Kumori didn't like it, and spent the entire week making a case against it. Exhausted, Harry let her talk, but he knew inside his heart that soon he'd be doing magic spells like an average Hogwarts student. Soon he'd excel at his classes again without feeling like he had mono.

Friday rolled around again, and Harry's body attended breakfast. His mind couldn't wait for Defense, for the amulet that might unchain his abilities.

"Psah, you've seen how exhausted Harry is, Kumori. Let him have his toy, we can't coddle him this year. I won't be around for help next year, and Luna is hardly mentoring material." Jenny scrapped her bacon onto Harry's plate, not feeling like grease in the morning.

Zombie-Harry mechanically shoved the food into his mouth. He didn't care about the extra bacon.

"Heartstring Talismans are serious power." Luna seemed unusually focused this morning. "They are as highly regulated as Time Turners and Perpetual Energy Sources. Unlike a normal wand core, they contain interwoven pieces of the fantastic magical essences. Nundus, Dragons, Kraken, Sphinxes, Phules, and even renowned deceased wizards of high power may donate their hearts."

"You make it sound like these babies are an easy power boost. Why haven't I heard of them before?" Jenny could think of uses for free spell energy.

Kumori appeared in front of Jenny, annoyed. Pink smoke drifted off, and Jenny coughed.

"You are standing in my scrambled eggs."

"I'm not poisonous unless I want to be." Kumori waved a hand in dismissal. "Listen, you haven't heard of those temperamental timebombs for three reasons."

Jenny jabbed a forkful of eggs with great force. Kumori didn't flinch as the blunt metal tines missed her feet.

"First, making them causes their creator to permanently lose a portion of his overall magic. Second, if their wielder isn't compatible with the type of powers inside them, they won't work and may even explode. And I don't mean a small explosion. Third, overuse equals dependency. Learning spells with a talisman may mean they won't work without one."

Jenny expertly ignored the doll, and examined her forkful of eggs. "Ugh, now I don't want these. They have a pink tint. Luna, you want your eggs?"

Not answering, Luna shoved the last of her eggs into her mouth before they could be taken. She nodded with bulging chipmunk cheeks.

"Drat." Jenny really wanted eggs this morning.

"Are you three klutz-kit-teers even listening?" Kumori kicked a spoon in agitation. It clattered across the table and fell onto the floor. The noise was ignored.

"I'm using the talisman." Harry's voice wasn't loud or convincing, but contained a core of immovable steel.

"Good luck with that, time for classes now." Jenny brushed crumbs off her robes and stood up.

Luna, still chewing, also stood. She mumbled an unintelligible encouragement around her eggs, and wandered off.

"Five more hours 'till freedom." Harry muttered. Kumori teleported onto his head, sat, and pouted.

------------------------

"Harry Potter, see me after class," said Professor Remus Lupin, dismissing his third year Defense students.

"Don't worry Harry, fearing Professor Snape enough to Boggartize him, isn't a terrible thing. Practice potions a little more, and you'll be OK. He doesn't hate Ravenclaws like Gryffindors."

Harry nodded, and turned. Hermione disappeared before he could thank her. She'd been doing that a lot lately, but it was her business.

When the last student left, Lupin walked over and locked the door to the class. Harry watched him erect better privacy enchantments than last week, and then the professor called Harry over. Reaching inside his patchwork robes, Lupin pulled out a brown pouch and set it on an empty desk.

"Harry, carefully send a pulse of your magic toward this enspelled purse. If it opens, the Heartstring Amulet inside is compatible with your magical core, and won't be devastating the grounds of Hogwarts with a meltdown."

Pulling out his wand, Harry complied.

The small leather bag rocked back and forth, but didn't spit out its contents.

Kumori faded into visibility. "It's a partial. That means explosive aetheric decompression is at least thirty percent possible. Did I mention how stupid and irresponsible I find this plan?"

"Hundreds of times this week." Harry wasn't letting his assigned babysitter screw up his chances at wizarding normality. Partial was good enough for him. He concentrated harder, and felt his wand vibrate, empathizing with his desires.

The leather purse rocked back and forth, finally splitting along the middle. An ugly fist-sized black acorn-like object spilled out. It rolled off the desk and dropped onto the floor.

Remus Lupin flinched, then let out a relieved breath of air when the talisman didn't explode and take out half the castle. Kumori popped away before it hit the floor, leaving the fools behind.

Calmly, Harry walked over and picked it up. The resonation made him feels dirty, but some dark part of him recognized a Heartstring the talisman was composed of. A connection was made.

BAMF! Pink smoke appeared and vanished.

"Ewww. . . you touched it! That's a shriveled baby dragon's heart, preserved in formaldehyde and unicorn mucus." Kumori hated the object's feel; the darkness it radiated meant dead dark wizards contributed the majority of its power.

"At least it doesn't smell." Harry unraveled a string from around the talisman, and proceeded to hang it around his neck. "How do I activate it professor?"

Lupin looked nervous. Dumbledore hadn't told him exactly why such a dark object would find compatibility with Harry's magical core, but the reasons that occurred in his mind disturbed him.

"Just now realizing what this is?" Kumori fluttered in the air and scowled at Lupin. "If you're wearing that thing, I'm not sitting on your head Harry."

Lupin looked apologetic. "It should activate on its own whenever you use magic, Harry. The spells should feel easier, and you should be able to do more. Be careful though, if you push your limits, the talisman may cause uncomfortable magic surges."

"Yeah Harry. If you hardline that cursed object, the inevitable explosion will kill you. Explaining your bumbling demise to Master Amanda isn't a task I relish. So don't push it!" Kumori vanished.

"Whatever." Harry didn't need his happiness spoiled.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Now that you've been released from the restrictions imposed by your underdeveloped magic, I have an additional task for you."

"What sir?" Harry sounded ready.

"Learning the hex of Dementor's demise – _Expecto Patronum_. We expect our troublesome guests from Azkaban may become impatient eventually, and Professor Dumbledore recommended these lessons. "

----------

The Patronus Charm had a high level of difficultly. Harry practiced with Professor Lupin twice weekly, but hadn't gotten it by Halloween. Because he and Jenny arrived so late from America, he never obtained permission from the Dursleys for Hogsmeade weekend. Jenny promised candy and presents for him and Luna, so while disappointed, Harry had gotten over it.

Stuck in the castle while other third years explored the magical village, Harry settled down and worked his extra assignments in Charms and Transfiguration in a quiet study area inside Ravenclaw tower. Kumori was with Jenny in town, having maintained a greater distance from Harry since he claimed the Heartstring Amulet.

Harry was repulsed by the slimy dark quality of the power provided by the artifact, but he considered the taint a lesser evil compared with constant exhaustion. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was ahead in his classes. It felt good. Though he did regret not spending time with friends, Harry reveled in schoolwork. As a teacher's pet in muggle schools, being a magic dunce was a hard thing for him.

Now that he could work more spells, Harry had driven himself hard. He'd promised himself he'd relax when he was two months ahead in his classes. He estimated the middle of November.

Harry study session was interrupted a short time later when the door of the study closed violently. The Gray Lady, Ravneclaw's ghostly protector, materialized and used her power. Dressed in fourteenth century fashion, she'd elected the ghost's path after failing on her quest for true love. The plague felled her before she found an intellectual equal.

The door leading into Ravenclaw's Tower vanished, and the Gray Lady turned. Annoyed yet respectful, Harry closed his books waited for his house ghost's attention. She floated over and gave him a smile after securing the room.

"What's going on?" Harry had enough material for hours, but he'd never seen one of Hogwart's ghosts behave like that before.

"The wanted criminal Sirius Black has overcome the defenses and entered Ravenclaw tower. The Smart Widow has always feared fire, and Black used that against her. She held out bravely, buying time for swift action. She fled across portrait-space when Black burned her picture and forced his way inside."

Harry paled.

"Don't worry, I cut off our physical connection with the tower's hallways. The only way into this room is direct teleportation."

"I'll be fine." Harry lied. "Don't worry about me, alert the headmaster and professors. Don't let Black escape!"

The attractive face of the Gray Lady hardened. "You are right, Mr. Potter. I'll do my utmost." The ghost vanished with an aetheric wind.

Even with the castle in an alert uproar, Sirius Black eluded capture. Kumori couldn't find him in her sweeps either, which impressed her more than his escape from Azkaban. Though she never caught him, the doll often teleported around the castle, searching for hidden entrances and spots of concealment. As time passed, Kumori's respect for Sirius Black as a worthy opponent grew.

----------------

Kumori gave Harry and Luna strange whistles that would summon her. With Black at large, their group wanted extra protection for the weakest members. The repulsive radiation from the Heartstring Amulet disturbed Kumori, and she accompanied Jenny now. The older witch didn't mind, and often used the doll as a deterrent for younger students too enamored of the Heir of Hufflepuff. Her reputation as the 'Dollmaker' flourished.

The next major incidents passed Harry with little impact. Dementors interrupted the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match, and Professor Lupin took sick for a few days. Professor Snape filled in with malicious glee, and outdid himself in siphoning points away from Gryffindor.

Neville Longbottom received a detention where he had cleaning duty over the hospital bed pans, magic forbidden. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley had a falling out when it appeared her cat Crookshanks ate his rat Scabbers. Harry tried using this as an opportunity to make Hermione a better friend, but she was so busy with her own classes, she never noticed his efforts.

Harry achieved his goal of being ahead in his classes, and Professor Flitwick granted him permission for sitting the History of Magic OWL that summer. The less Binns in his future, the better.

By the time Christmas holidays arrived, Harry could manifest a silvery stream in a partial Patronus, but his patron remained absent. Professor Lupin praised his ability, reminding him such a complex charm was beyond most experienced wizards.

For this first time in almost two years, Harry went home for a visit with the Dursleys.

---------------

In a way, his visit surprised his relatives. The Dursleys had begun thinking of Harry as an upper-class jetsetter, a person of importance who rarely had time for the little people. Dudley encouraged this, and expounded on Harry's virtues during the last summer. It paid off: Petunia agreed with her son that Harry didn't need an open room when his riches overflowed.

When Harry arrived home for the holidays, he found his bedroom no longer existed. Dudley had stolen it, and was using it as a weight training area. Harry had grown past five feet since his absence from Privet Drive, but Dudley's changes put his growth spurt into perspective.

His cousin had found discipline. Weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds, five-feet seven inches, Dudley Dursley was pure muscle. Now the star of his school's wrestling team, 'The Dude' was no longer a sniveling selfish worm. He was a focused, young adult, with the noble goal of going out for Olympic wrestling and representing the United Kingdom.

Vernon was proud of his son; Dudley's focus and accomplishments came a double victory. First it showed Vernon's manliness indirectly through the virtue of his son. Second, he'd decisively won the eternal argument with his wife on proper child rearing. He'd told Petunia for years coddling the boy would ruin him. With Harry's absence, Vernon heaped chores and responsibilities on his son, and Dudley had met the challenge.

One attitude from Dudley hadn't changed – his cousin still could care less about Harry Potter. Instead of focusing on his dissipation and hedonism, Dudley now focused on his self-improvement. The first thing Dudley had done with Harry's surprise visit was giving up bed. His coach's idea of sleeping on a hard wooden floor for improving his back musculature was something Petunia didn't want her Duddikins doing. With an unexpected guest, his overprotective mother no longer had a reason for preventing Dudley from toughening himself by sleeping on the wooden floor underneath the cupboard.

Harry insisted on taking the Dursleys out for an expensive Christmas dinner at the finest restaurant in Little Winging. After a token protest, Vernon allowed the outing with a smile.

"Are those awful freaks treating you alright, dear?" Petunia gently buttered a pre-dinner roll inside Rory's Roaring Riverside Chateau. The envious looks from the people waiting for seats were a balm for her petty soul. The Dursleys had been immediately whisked into a private dining area.

"It's no longer as bad Aunt Petunia," said Harry. "They recognized the work exhausted me, so they gave me a booster talisman."

"Boy! Have you forgotten how they took you away from us?" Vernon's face radiated disappointment. This cut Harry sharply, as he'd worked hard at earning his Uncle's approval.

Jarred, Harry searched his memory, now better ordered by rudimentary Legillimancy. His happy expression of Christmas cheer faded into shock. "Uncle Vernon, my memory is gone. I remember Aunt Petunia looking upset at an owl, then my next memory is casting the light spell in class, three weeks later."

Petunia handed Dudley the buttered roll, and he inhaled it. "Vernon and I tried to protect you Harry. Those freaks kidnapped you from us; we tried stopping them, but the giant man they sent was too strong. He tossed us aside like we were nothing and enchanted poor Dudley with a disfigurement."

"Yeah, if I ever find that pink-umbrella'd giant freak again, I'll thrash him." The Dude cracked his knuckles. "The surgery to fix me was embarrassing and painful."

"I don't know if _they_ have sucked you into their cult, but I think it's time we told you the truth about your parents, Harry." Vernon looked really old, the Christmas spirit vanishing from his face.

"Your mum and didn't die in a car accident; my sister Lily was touched." Petunia's voice sounded far away from the concerns of mortal men. "Our family was overjoyed at having a magical daughter, and she met your Dad at the same freakish school you attend now. I too, once thought magic was a gift. Then I realized giving power into the hands of flawed human beings doesn't make them noble angels, it makes them into power mad freaks!"

Petunia started crying, and Vernon gently took her hand. Dudley look shocked, then resigned. Ever since his cousin was kidnapped, he'd felt the shadow descend over his mother's heart.

"As wonderful as the power inside you might be Harry, it isn't a toy. Your parents were killed by the grandest of all freaks, one driven by darkness and bloodlust. Your precious society didn't label him as a murderer or terrorist, instead they called him a Dark Lord. As if slaughter lead somehow into nobility." Forgetting or not caring this was a classy restaurant, Vernon spat on the floor.

Petunia pulled her composure together, and continued.

"I wouldn't even be speaking of this if not for the nationwide manhunt. The serial killer Sirius Black isn't what the media portray him as. That man is the wizard behind the murder of your parents, Harry. He was the man who corrupted your mother into becoming a freak, then betrayed her." Petunia shuddered, motioned for her husband to finish. James and Sirius had long ago introduced her to the darker side of wizarding society. She never told her sister about being subjected to their sinister pain games of 'muggle baiting'.

"We took you in only when the tests showed you hadn't a drop of strange power inside your body. Apparently the freaks have ways of corrupting normal people into their own. Don't give in to them, boy! Fight them with your soul and mind; it's what your parents would have wanted." Vernon gave a long, quiet sigh. He'd said his peace.

"But Amanda. . . " Harry hadn't even finished his thought when Dudley's huge hand smacked the back of his head, shutting him up.

"Don't you talk about my first crush like that, Harry Potter. She's not a true freak. You were too young two years ago, but Amanda had a long talk with Mum and Dad about the freaks that stole you. They had it in for her too. Whatever else you might think, you can trust that woman. Now enough about these bad memories; it's Christmas! Let's eat." Dudley grabbed a menu from the waiter as he approached the table.

Subdued, Harry took his time ordering. The Christmas cheer returned over the main course, but Harry stayed awake that night, staring at the ceiling in Dudley's room. Unconsciously, he clutched the Heartstring Talisman hanging around this throat.

Kumori was Amanda's designated contact. She'd warned him about accepting the artifact's power. Had she been right? Were the wizards in England really power mad freaks intent on corrupting him? According to the history textbooks, Harry Potter, the Squib-Who-Lived, shouldn't even be practicing magic. Voldemort's killing curse supposedly ended his ability, yet now he was a typical apprentice wizard.

That night, Harry Potter made an enemy. His unknown adversary was responsible for stealing away his memories, for manipulating Harry and his relatives. While revenge didn't appeal, Harry promised himself he'd right the situation.

He'd bring his enemy to justice.


	15. Chapter 9 Part III

9.3: Dark Heartstrings 

With new resolve, Harry threw himself back into his classwork after the holidays. Deciphering the mystery behind his missing memories and taking a stand on the Heartstring Talisman could wait until after he'd completed the syllabus for the year. His convictions were important, but a passing grade stirred something deep inside him. At muggle schools, Harry had been the whiz kid, the top scorer, and he missed that comfortably feeling of ability in the magical world he'd been thrown into.

Harry liked Hogwarts and Wizarding England now, and a dark voice in his mind kept telling him those memories were missing for a good reason. He wasn't sure if it was his own voice, or a remnant compulsion from careful obliviation – 'don't worry boy, it was for your own good.' What sick mastermind stole the memories of children? What tortures might he have forgotten?

The suspense drove him. Taking a moral stand without thinking through the consequences didn't sit right with Harry. He'd become a virtual pariah while he immersed himself in magic, obsession, and books.

Remus Lupin didn't notice Harry's single-minded drive. Though he'd been sick again over Christmas, the professor praised Harry's dedication in practicing the Patronus charm. Near the beginning of February, Harry made his stand.

Another typical lesson with Professor Lupin, taken on a Friday after classes finished. Recovering from another bout of his recurring illness, the DADA instructor put Harry through his paces.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Said Harry, drawing upon the enhanced reserve of power inside him and thinking of getting a perfect score on his last Charms exam.

Silvery light shot from the tip of his wand, but didn't manifest into a solid form.

"It would be wonderful if we had an actual Dementor for practicing with. The threatening aura would drive you into new heights while testing your mettle under controlled field conditions."

Harry looked at Lupin like he'd sprouted seven new heads and taken up barbershop octet choral singing. "Endangering my sanity by stripping away my memories and happiness would _not_ encourage me in mastering magic."

"Idle thoughts, Harry, no need for extreme reactions." Lupin sounded tired, but then he usually did.

"Professor, my reactions aren't extreme. Since Christmas, I've noticed a strange hole in memories centered on the start of my first year. I've been performing mental exercises in recall, with no results. That tells me those memories were stolen."

"That's out of my depth Harry. If this is a genuine concern, the headmaster is the one you should approach. If you believe this hole in your memory is holding you back, then perhaps we should call it a day." Lupin stretched slowly, cracking his spine.

"No, it isn't holding me back. One last try, and we can enjoy the rest of Friday." Harry inclined his head, and Professor Lupin nodded back.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Harry drove his mind and magic with the power of his personal triumph. Today he'd finished the last of the future coursework in classes for this year. No more self-imposed obstacles remained before his goals, except the Patronus. He could feel the happiness and glee bursting inside his chest if this, the spell he'd slaved over for months, worked.

Silvery streams of power projected themselves from the tip of Harry's wand, and they started changing.

"It's working!" Lupin's excitement spurred Harry onto new heights of iterative happiness.

Harry finished the spell and opened his eyes. A small translucent winged angel shape flew around the room, looking to destroy evil. She brought a bittersweet smile and tons of fun memories. Tenshi flew again.

Looking disappointed nothing was around for a fight, Harry's patron faded away as the spell finished.

"A true _Patronus_, good work." Lupin clasped Harry on the shoulder and smiled. Deep inside his brain, Remus did note Harry's patron looked puny, but he'd heard the Squib-Who-Lived jokes in the faculty lounge. Snape, not usually a humorous man, seemed to always have a new one. Yet, no one who could cast a corporeal _Patronus_ deserved the title of 'Squib.'

"Thank you, Professor." Harry sounded unusually resolute, as if his accomplishment meant little. "Now I'd like to turn this in." Carefully, he removed the Heartstring Talisman from around his neck.

Professor Lupin tired expression didn't change, though he was surprised. Ignoring the offered artifact, he rummaged around in his teacher's desk and pulled out the leather holding bag that normally accompanied the artifact.

"Carefully slip it inside here." Lupin held the bag open while Harry gently put the amulet in, then he tied it tight and made arcane wand movements while channeling power. A faint subsonic hum Harry hadn't even realized was present then ceased.

"You didn't try and talk me out of it?" Said Harry, confused.

"No. I agreed with your fairy godmother, the vibes that thing put out are bad. Dumbledore made me promise you'd have the choice without my opinion. Abandoning power like that isn't easy, and in a way the Headmaster meant the Heartstring Talisman as a test of resolve. I'm sure you can figure the rest out yourself."

Harry nodded; disturbed this victory had been another hidden manipulation. The emotion didn't reach his face.

"Have a good weekend now, I'll be carrying this back into a ministry containment field." With a merry wave, Professor Lupin left the room.

After the door closed, Harry found himself alone. He slowly took out Kumori's whistle and blew into it.

BAMF! His appointed protector appeared in a cloud of pink smoke, ready for action.

"It's over, Kumori. I'm back to normal."

"About time you regained some sense." With a sniff, the small construct settled back onto Harry's head.

----------------

March arrived, and Harry fell back into a normal routine with Jenny and Luna. He'd gotten Hogsmeade visitation permission over Christmas break, but found the school library more interesting than the magic village. Magical exhaustion overtook him about once a week, but Harry was stronger now, even without the Heartstring Talisman. Classes plodded on through the end of the winter blahs.

"How could you lose your wand Neville?" Ron's whisper sounded incredulous yet annoyed. Professor Lupin was lecturing about werewolves today, and their wands wouldn't be needed.

"I think it fell out after Snape yelled at us in Potions. This is my last clean robe, and I forgot the pocket has a rip in it. After class I'll go back and search the hallways; it'll turn up."

Ignoring Lupin's lecture, Harry struggled not to laugh. Longbottom was such a clumsy fool. As an added bonus, the lost wand had little chance of somehow hurting Harry, unlike Neville's other pratfalls. Neville's consequences weren't likely to turn into a misfortunate Harry-seeking time bomb this time.

"It's no use panicking. Pay attention for now, and we'll help you look after class." Hermione succeeded in calmly her friends without attracting the attention of the professor. She'd become their unofficial leader over the course of the year, as Ron was too thick and Neville too unassuming.

Saturday morning, Hermione began asking the professors for help. Neville's wand was gone. Truly gone. They couldn't find the normal connection between his magic and his wand. It was as if another wizard had taken possession of it and masked the magical signature.

"Minerva, I will not subject Slytherin house for a public search over an irresponsible boy's stupidity," said Snape, who continued with an announcement loud enough for the entire Grand Hall's breakfast crowd. "Neville Longbottom has lost his wand, if you should find a strange wand, please return to Professor McGonnal by the _end of the weekend_."

The Slytherins snickered, thinking another dumb Griff had been pranked.

Harry snorted. While he loathed Longbottom, Snape also earned his hatred. He couldn't really care about the situation, and spent the weekend in his usual fashion. Later with the clarity of hindsight, Harry would wish he'd helped Longbottom instead of enjoying the boy's misery.

Sunday night Ravenclaw Tower was attacked. The guardian portrait was blasted into smithereens by bolts of eldritch power. Sirius Black had stolen Neville Longbottom's wand, and was on a rampage.

"Pettirgrew you bastard! I know you're in here. Face me like a man or die like a rat." Looking again at the Marauder's Map, Sirius ascended the tower stairs.

The frantic shaking of Terry Boot woke Harry, and he blew his summoning whistle. Kumori appeared in a cloud of pink smoke.

"Potter, we might not have moved in the same social circle, but I do know what's right. That murderer is coming for you, he keeps yelling about revenge and calling your parents names." Having imparted the warning, Terry Boot ran back to his own room and sealed the doors with his strongest wardings.

"Kumori, don't hold back." Harry nodded at his guardian, who saluted him and vanished.

Bamf. The sound was almost inaudible. As cool as her new motif might be, Kumori wasn't about giving up the advantage of surprise. After seven random bounces, she located Black in the long hallway connecting the five tower stairwells. The paintings hanging on the walls were reduced to landscapes, their occupants having fled. The worn blue carpeting was the only other adornment in the impromptu battleground.

Appearing behind Black, the doll opened up with chained disabling hexes. The multiple spell attack hit a strange invisible barrier, splashing harmlessly away.

"Normal tricks won't work Peter. I've picked up enough shielding magic for three Aurors." Looking at the Marauder's Map again, Sirius frowned when he realized Peter Pettigrew wasn't in the room, instead the name was much higher inside Ravenclaw Tower.

A powerful stunner deflected off the shielding bubble, gouging a smoking line into the hallway stones a foot above the carpet. Frowning at the spell strength, Sirius consulted his map.

'Kumori the Superdoll chameleon mode engaged' was the other occupant in the hallway, but Sirius couldn't see her. Ignoring the attacks, Sirius began walking to the staircase leading to Peter Pettigrew. By unfortunate coincidence, this staircase also led to Harry Potter's room.

"Forget the collateral damage, you're going down!" Sirius looked up and saw a two-foot tall miniature winged female doll standing on a hovering circular shadow disc. She wore a tight form-fitting black bodysuit with a large pink glowing K emblazoned across the stomach and chest area. A wandless _Stupefy_ spell exploded across her hovering form from Neville's wand. Unimpressed, Sirius had grown up a wizard of dark heritage, and seen stranger and more dangerous creatures.

BAMF! Ignoring the stunning hex, Kumori elf-apparated into Sirius's personal space. "_Bombus Maximus_!"

His eyes widening, Sirius Black watched a huge explosion become contained between his second and third layers of shielding. His hand felt lighter as two rings of magical protection overloaded, then crumbled into dust.

"You're strong." Charred and drained from being inside a reflected cocoon of the mega-bomb spell, Kumori teleported out with another cloud of pink smoke.

Looking at his map again, Sirius swore. Pettigrew was in the school's aviary. He must have taken the Ravenclaw mail chute there. Shifting into his animagus form, he chomped down on Neville's wand (wrapped in the Marauder's Map) and ran after his nemesis.

Peter eluded Sirius, as Sirius eluded his own pursuit. The intensive search by the Hogwarts staff didn't find Sirius Black, now declared armed and dangerous. Neville's Grandmother sent him a howler for losing his wand.

----------------

" 'The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, his servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than he ever was. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will set out to rejoin his master.' That's what Trelawney said." Neville's nervous whisper carried over into Harry's ears, undercutting Lupin's DADA lecture.

"Scabbers what are you doing? Ouch!" Ron's rat bit him and escaped under the classroom door. He never saw the old family pet again, and presumed the old rat had gone off to die with dignity. Scabber's had lost a great deal of weight along with most of his body hair. Hermione had diagnosed him as being near the end of his lifespan, and warned Ron this might happen.

"Weasley! What have I told you about interrupting my classes? Saturday detention for you." Lupin continued his lecture without missing a beat. Ron could only hold his bleeding hand and sigh.

-----------------

"My beautiful memory is wing-slamming Master Amanda's serene, conceited head into the forest mulch. The expression of surprised re-evaluation on her dirt-smudged face fills me with undeniable cheerfulness." Kumori flapped her wings, savoring the experience all over again.

"That doesn't help much." Harry still hadn't recreated a corporeal Patronus since giving up the Heartstring Talisman, and this after-class session was one of the few left before finals.

"Keep trying Harry." Remus nodded at his pupil. "Now Kumori, tell me everything you remember about Sirius Black. If he could defeat you so easily, it's best for us to prepare."

"Yeah, it irks me, but I don't think I could defeat him alone," said the doll. Sirius might not outclass her in magic, but his artifacts of power and intelligence were not trivial. She began her recount of events.

While the defenses around the castle were stepped up, in the end the final confrontation was not in Hogwart's proper.


	16. Chapter 9 Part IV

9.4 -- Moments in Execution

"Harry, I could use your help with an important matter. Please, follow me." Marking his place in the _History of Grindlewald's Rule_, Harry followed Hermione out of the library. Normal exams might be over for third years, but he still needed to take his OWL for the History of Magic.

"What is it?" Harry asked, as soon they could speak like normal people in the hallway.

"This is important, I need your help stopping an unjust murder. Follow me." Not giving him a chance for argument, Hermione hurried out of the castle, and Harry followed.

"I'll help, but don't stick me with Longbottom, that prat gets on my nerves." They exited the castle and hurried toward Hagrid's cabin.

Kumori dropped her concealments and appeared on Harry's head. She sat in a lotus-style meditation posture, keeping her balance despite Harry's slow jog. "This isn't about that stupid Hippogriff, is it? You Gryffindors make stopping the fall of every sparrow into personal crusades."

Hermione almost tripped at the comment, but didn't slow down. "Ron and Neville are delaying the execution; making sure Buckbeak gets away is our job. He's innocent! Malfoy got embarrassed, not maimed. I was there."

"Whatever." Kumori sounded bored.

"Don't 'whatever' me. You are part of this too, little doll. You owe us for helping with the basilisk last year. I'm calling that favor in." Harry never thought he'd hear Hermione sound ridiculously smug. It wasn't very attractive.

"Fine, fine." Kumori sounded resigned.

They arrived and circled behind Hagrid's cabin. Buckbeak was chained in strong metal shackles next to a chopping block in the pumpkin patch. An executioner's axe lay against a tree stump; it cast a long shadow in the blood-red rays of the setting sun.

"Help me with these shackles, we have about ten minutes until Buckbeak dies. Don't make noise." Hermione muttered an indistinct Latin phrase, expecting one of Buckbeak's leg irons to open. Instead, her spell did nothing, and Hermione broke into silent tears.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Harry didn't understand what was going on.

"Do you know any unlocking spells?" Hermione's voice remained calm despite her loss of composure.

"No," said Harry.

"I should have realized the chains would be magic. We can't open them without the key."

"Yeah, powerful warding too. You owe me one for this kid." Kumori launched herself off of Harry's head and touched the chains rapidly in about a dozen places, darting around Buckbeak like an oversized fly. The Hippogriff made an annoyed noise at this, but didn't otherwise act.

Summoning her disc of levitating power, Kumori hovered in the air. She made a complicated gesture with her arms, a strange type of sign language. Harry and Hermione both recognized powerful runic structures far beyond the first year Ancient Runes they understood. Glowing streams of power sprang from the chains around Buckbeak, a red magic rainbow against the sunset. Gradually, the levitating disk Kumori hovered on sped up, and finally turned pink.

"It's covered." Like Kumori's words were a final trigger, the chains around Buckbeak became rusty and weak, and he broke free easily with a powerful flexing of his wings. Not standing for much ceremony while his life remained in danger, Buckbeak bowed deeply to his rescuers before flying off.

The escaping Hippogriff looked majestic against the backdrop of the setting sun. He looked brave and triumphant as he let out a loud caw of triumph, savoring his freedom.

"That stupid animal, he's asking for it." Kumori's comment proved spot-on as a stunning hex blasted Buckbeak from the sky. She quickly re-instated her invisibility.

"Ha-haha, looks like the execution is on." The dark laughter accompanied a strange group into the cottage's backyard. Professor Dumbledore looked disappointed as he walked with two strange wizards, one dressed in complete black who still chuckled, and one dressed in elaborate, stylish robes.

"Good shot McNair, but I don't like how the condemned escaped. Check the wands of those kids for tampering."

Hagrid and Ron Weasley came rushing out of the cottage's back door. Ron hurried and joined Hermione, and Hagrid rushed over to Dumbledore.

Ignoring the new people, McNair nodded at the Minister of Magic and motioned for the kids to present their wands. Sullenly Hermione and Harry did so. Not knowing what was going on, Ron mimicked his companions like a dumb monkey.

Muttering an indistinct Latin phrase, a white glow surrounded the wand of the three students. McNair growled, causing Hermione to flinch backwards. "They are clean, Minister Fudge, though the girl did try a simple unlocking charm recently." McNair sounded disappointed.

"What are you children doing here, anyway? Aren't rules in place preventing you from wandering the grounds?" Fudge felt no need for making a good impression upon three children, one of which he recognized as a Weasley.

Dumbledore interceded. "Hagrid gave them permission with my permission. Buckbeak was their friend, and they wanted a last goodbye if they couldn't talk you out of this course of action."

Minster Fudge looked like he swallowed a disagreeable food, but he nodded his head. "Fair enough. McNair, grab the stunned thing and let's get this over with. You kids are welcome to watch and grieve, but the last appeal was denied."

Heading down the road to the downed animal, McNair prepared a _mobilicorpus_ to haul Buckbeak back for his doom.

In the brief lull, Hermione cornered Ron. "Where's Neville?" She hissed, having expected the last of their trio's assistance in delaying Fudge's party.

"I dunno," said Ron. "He wasn't there in the main hall, and you said timing meant everything, so I left without him."

"He knew how important this was. He promised not to be late. Something terrible must have happened!"

Harry rolled his eyes. Neville always meant well, yet always screwed up. While he no longer hated the prat with a burning passion, Harry never wanted his plans to depend on Longbottom. Hermione should have anticipated such a failure.

-----------

The paralyzed beast hit the pumpkin patch beside the axe's stump with a loud thud. McNair had returned.

"Excellent." Fudge's distaste stemmed not from the act itself, but from the time he spent waiting. "McNair, check the sharpening charm on the axe. If you have any more goodbyes, say them now."

Hagrid broke into loud, messy tears. He looked like he might become unhinged, so Dumbledore led his Keeper of the Keys and Grounds aside and softly muttered calming charms.

Hermione and Ron moved hesitantly next to the Hippogriff. The girl apologized for failing him, and Ron parroted her; his sentiments no less heartfelt for being copied.

"Ready, Minister Fudge." McNair picked up the executioner's axe.

Hagrid wail overcame Dumbledore's calming charms, and the aged wizard attempted damage control. Hermione closed her eyes and held on tight to Ron's hand. Ron looked at Hermione, sad the plan for delaying the execution party inside Hagrid's hadn't worked.

"Do it," said Fudge. McNair's muscles bulged and the axe hurtled toward Buckbeak's neck. The Minister of Magic bowed his head in a gesture of respect for the soon deceased.

Harry also looked away. While he disapproved of miscarried justice, Harry felt no connection with the mystical creature waiting for slaughter. However, he did respect the beast enough not to shame it by witnessing an ignoble end. The axe buried itself in the ground underneath Buckbeak's head with a mighty thwack, and Hagrid's wailing redoubled.

"He actually did it! I can't believe it." Hermione collapsed against Ron, who comforted her with stuttered whispers. Harry also put an awkward hand on her shoulder.

Fudge's imperious voice spoke: "Albus, take that blubbering oaf away, back into his cottage. He can rest while we finish the official proceedings."

Not even looking at the murdered Hippogriff, Dumbledore led Hagrid back into his home, completely fooled. He didn't hear Kumori's valiant stand.

Then Harry noticed Fudge and McNair were paralyzed on the ground, helpless. He looked around wildly, blowing out his trouble-whistle and shaking Hermione, as if to banish her tears and bring alertness.

BAMF! A cloud of pink smoke outlined a man's figure, and advanced concealment wardings were undone. Her pink whirling disk buzzed angrily, and Kumori confronted a worthy opponent. "Clever, Sirius Black. Matching the color of your silent stunner with the sunset, so it was invisible."

"I liked the ventriloquism personally; Dumbledore is a hard man to fool." Black stepped toward the paralyzed Hippogriff, ignoring the doll and the students. Now that Harry looked, it was obvious the axe had fallen under Buckbeak's chin instead of going through it.

"I'll stop you." Kumori reappeared in his way.

"You might, but your concerns should be on the hundreds of Dementors pursing me with reckless disregard for magical law. They'll show in about five minutes, I'd imagine."

"I'm willing to risk it, for the sake of bringing my parent's murderer to justice. Kumori, he's your target." Harry's voice sounded cold, hard. It broke Hermione and Ron out of their grief-stupor and refocused the doll's attention.

Looking unsure, Sirius kept talking. "Now, Harry, I'm sorry I never introduced myself earlier, but your protector kept me away. I'm your Godfather. I didn't murder your parents, Peter Pettigrew did. He was an unregistered rat animagus who masqueraded for years as the Weasley's pet rat Scabbers."

Ron's shout of hot denial interrupted Sirius, and in that moment Kumori stuck, rebounding off another permanent shielding charm.

"Remus Lupin, the werewolf, will verify parts of my story." Sirius continued as if he hadn't been interrupted and sneak attacked. "Myself, your father, and Pettigrew were all unregistered animagi. We learned for Remus's sake. Myself as secret keeper was a public ruse – Pettigrew is the real betrayer. He cut off a finger, blew up the muggles, and was in the sewers as a rat before I could catch him."

"What did you do with Neville, you murderer?" Hermione rose in defense of her friend.

Looking at Hermione strangely, Sirius changed his expression. Hope and defiance chased away fatalism, as if he'd chosen to believe in himself once more.

"I apologized for taking his wand, and gave him money for a new one." Sirius dismissed Hermione from his attention, cast a silencing charm around Buckbeak, and then _enervated_ him out of McNair's stunner.

"_Aurorum Aurum_." Kumori's gold beam rocketed at Neville's stolen wand, but Sirius clutched it closely to his body, and it deflected off his shields into the buried executioner's axe. The weapon turned into solid gold.

"Clever, illegal, and obscure; you keep good company, Harry. Sets my heart at ease. If my wand _had_ been transmuted into solid gold, it wouldn't work anymore. I don't have time right now," Sirius gave Hermione a significant glance, "but bring a vial of veritaserum into the secret hallway chamber opened with a double tap on torch-bracket near the infirmary. Thirteen clicks might be pushing it, but that's what it takes."

A chill started seeping into the clearing, and Harry shivered involuntarily. Sirius mounted Buckbeak, who gave a silent shout of freedom.

"Godson, I wanted to give a Christmas present, but you didn't stay during the holidays. I thought it very clever of Dumbledore to foil me so; the protections of your hideaway were top notch. We'll talk tomorrow. It's a good chat, trust me."

"Kumori –" Harry began another search and destroy order, but Hermione interrupted.

"Harry, let him go. The Dementors are here, and I know what I'm talking about."

"She's half-right Harry," said Kumori. "I can't stop him and hundreds of Dementors. Ron and Hermione, get those two unconscious gits into the safety of the cabin. Harry and I will handle those Dementors not chasing Mr. Murder. Dumbledore can handle any going for the cottage."

"Sorry to leave in a hurry, but I'll be tracking Peter with our old Map. Don't worry, I know you'll be fine." Sirius nudged Buckbeak with his boots, and the Hippogriff took flight.

The world crumbled around Harry. He didn't believe Sirius. He thought the man murdered his parents, and his friends and protector had seemingly abandoned his noble quest for justice. Harry concentrated with all his might and magic. Jenny showed him a spell last summer, a very powerful fire hex she'd used against the basilisk. With incredible determination, Harry pointed his wand at his departing Godfather.

"_Incendiomega_!" He shouted. A huge white-hot plasmatic blast shot out of his wand tip, scorching the grass and tossing Harry off his feet onto his arse. In his rage of betrayal, Harry had done nearly everything right. Except aiming. The firestrike missed, streaking into the twilight sky. The last Harry heard of Sirius was his amused laughter.

"Hurry and get up Harry, the Dementors are coming!" Kumori pulled on her charge's ear, annoying him to his feet.

They took off running into the forest behind Hagrid's home.

"Why didn't we head for the cabin's safety?" Complained Harry.

"Because their target is Sirius and he took off in that direction. We should be safe on the sidelines. Now keep running." Said Kumori.

The chill of Dementor pursuit followed them. A miscalculation had been made during their plans. The Dementors didn't linger at Hagrid cabin, having arrangements with both Albus Dumbledore and the Minster of Magic. They didn't pursue Sirius Black, who was traveling far too fast for their senses. Instead, the Dementors chased after Harry Potter; the aethric smell of his magical core reminded them of evil, delicious prey they'd devoured. Sins far worse than the criminal Black was convicted of.

Kumori and Harry ran, but the pursuit remained relentless.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" A silvery stream of light projected from Harry's wand. After giving up the Heartstring Talisman, Harry had never succeeded at a corporeal Patronus. The group of fifty Dementors behind them hesitated, and then slowly continued their approach.

"_Expecto Patronum Petite_!" The seven-foot long representation of the _Millennium Flacon _unloaded magical laser ordnance. Three Dementors popped like dirty soap bubbles, leaving a stench of decay behind. Kumori faded back, and slumped onto Harry's head.

He continued running, and broke into a moonlit clearing. Then Harry stopped next to a lake, panting. Another large group of Dementors was right in front of him.

"_Expecto Patronum Petite_!" Kumori did her best. This time, even the iconic rebel symbol of hope couldn't take out a soul leech. Their field of icy despair sucked away the power of the Patronus before the red lasers could inflict harm.

"It's no good, there are too many!" Frantic, Harry looked for an escape route. The ranks of the Dementor flock offered no such avenue.

"At least we'll go together, I'm not abandoning you, Harry. Get ready for an asskicking final stand." Kumori hovered bravely above Harry's head, already feeling the proximity drain from over a hundred Dementors. "I just wish I had the time to charge my real Patron."

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Shouted Harry.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Said Kumori, grabbing onto Harry's wand for the power boost.

The silvery incandescent ether-light slowed the Dementors, but didn't stop them. Their chorus of _Expecto Patronum_ delayed the inevitable. The world began darkening, and Harry felt icy despair. A second moon appeared in the twilight sky, radiating silvery light, and Harry wondered how far gone he must be to experience blurred double vision.

From far, far away a voice much like Kumori's spoke a professional, simple statement. "Charging complete. Death Star on line. Firing Superlaser batteries in three. . . two. . . one . . . _Omega Patronum!_"

The world dissolved in a white explosion of peace and bliss.

------------

He woke in the hospital wing, the next morning. Hermione was waiting for him, and she impatiently shoved buttered toast at him.

"Quickly Harry, eat and wake up. We don't have much time to save Buckbeak."

Opening his mouth to protest, Harry nearly choked as Hermione shoved in a piece of toast. Bolting the breakfast, Harry used the hospital wing loo only to find Hermione impatiently tapping a foot outside. He thanked Merlin that it had a door, which he had closed tight.

"Call the doll."

"What?" Confused, Harry used his emergency whistle, and Kumori popped into the air, battle ready and scanning the room for active threats. The pink K on her chest seemed unusually florescent.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and activated her Time Turner, taking them back into yesterday. Psychedelic magic slammed into Harry's brain as reality bent over backwards.

"Follow me." Not giving Harry a chance for reflection, Hermione rushed out of the hospital room.

"Bossy, isn't she?"

Resuming her position on Harry's head, Kumori laughed. "Better hurry; you're the one who likes her, not me."

Almost sprinting, Harry caught Hermione as she opened a secret passage by tapping a candle-bracket thirteen times in measured rapid strikes. It opened on the second tap, but she seemed not to notice. Following her through the semi-darkness, Harry almost bumped into her when she stopped abruptly in front of a large black dog.

"Sirius Black, if Neville Longbottom sent you up here, transform and drink this Veritaserum. Tell us your story and we will help you." Hermione pulled out a vial of strange potion from her robes.

Sirius told his story. He no longer trusted Wizarding justice, and was set on ending Peter on his own. He'd modified the Marauder's Map, and it now acted as a homing beacon for Pettigrew's location.

Harry hadn't wanted to believe. He'd questioned even the Veritaserum until Hermione made him take some himself. Then Harry could no longer deny. Tears were shed.

Hermione left, making sure Neville Longbottom didn't interfere with events. Harry talked about his parents with Sirius, and learned Dumbledore's role in his upbringing. Then Kumori spoke up.

"Mr. Black, before the truth potion wears off, I have but one question: tell me everything you are allowed to tell about the Order of the Phoenix." Kumori thought it would be a long shot, and she was rewarded beyond her wildest expectations.

After the information, Harry left, plotting an ambush for Dementors in the forest clearing. Everything went according to plan, though Professor Snape outed Remus Lupin as a werewolf once he learned the man somehow convinced Dumbledore of Black's innocence. Lupin resigned from his teaching position.

Harry took his single OWL in the History of Magic, and his third year ended.

Kumori and Jenny also wrapped up their investigation by confronting Dumbledore in his lair.

"So old man, let me ask you this: who does more harm? The truly evil or the righteous and wrong? Voldemort's horrors are self-evident, but who shaped his Dark Lord's path? You knew of the orphan Tom Riddle long before he attended this school for seven long years. Tommy boy becomes big V, and what lesson did you learn?"

"The good of the many outweighs the good of the few." Said Dumbledore.

"Such a righteous excuse for murder." Spat Jenny. "No else in the wizarding world thought to question as to why Voldemort was the last Dark Lord. We did, and we didn't like what we found."

Dumbledore looked serene. "And what was that Miss Hecate?"

"Your goody-two-shoes Death Eaters, the Order of the Phoenix, have been very pre-emptive. The unexplained death of older Hogwarts students with backgrounds like poor Tom Riddle's is practically a given. An unusually powerful child with a terrible upbringing gets killed in an accident, not by magic, but by some weird muggle happenstance. Amanda's Vespa; it was a failure on your part to commit murder. It's easier killing children than saving them, isn't it Albus?"

"Extraordinary accusations require extraordinary proof Miss Hecate." Dumbledore sighed. "Unless you have a mountain of tangible evidence, I'm afraid you've spun out a dangerous fantasy tale." The implication filled a pause in the conversation -- the danger was to her. "I'm not omniscient Miss Hecate. I can't right every wrong, nor tell people how to live."

Jenny simmered. They both knew no such proof existed, aside from statistics to correlate. Circumstantial evidence was useless. Calling Dumbledore out might briefly embarrass him politically, she was sure the old man had a way around truth potions. Amanda did.

"You allowed Amanda Hawking to be persecuted mercilessly while she attended this school. You did a terrible thing to Harry Potter, to make him a wizard. Rather than fight the blood prejudice behind the formation of Dark Lords, it flourishes inside Hogwarts. Sirius Black spent years of his life unjustly imprisoned because you helped deny him a fair trial. Do you sleep well on your pillows of ends with justified means?"

"Ah, but Miss Hawking is still alive. She hasn't committed any massacres I'm aware of. Does this mean her continued lifespan is a failure?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You can't have it both ways Miss Hecate."

It was then Jenny understood she wouldn't get anywhere. Dumbledore believed himself a truly good and righteous man. He'd had this belief reinforced over decades with the Orders of Merlin to back it. Incidental damage or evils stemming from his schemes were rationalized in advance as necessary sacrifices to his ideals of good. The most frustrating thing was he tried as hard as he could to be a good hero, not realizing some prices weren't his to pay.

"You don't understand what I'm talking about." Jenny looked at the confusion openly playing across the headmaster's face.

"I honestly don't." Dumbledore wanted to be a hero against the darkness since he was a child. After achieving that dream with Grindlewald's defeat, he'd never looked back.

"Then we're done." Jenny left her former headmaster's office, no longer happy with her accomplishment of graduating Hogwarts with at least two NEWTs. Harry and Amanda had shown her how much bigger the world really was.

------------

AN: Spelling errors corrected. Silence may be golden but reviews are platinum. If you want more in the future, I need feedback.


	17. Chapter 10

**Interlude -- Advance Endgaming**

"I understand now, after what happened this past year. No fading into obscurity, my enemies won't let me. Sirius Black came for me, and Voldemort, when he returns, will do the same."

"Harry, at least you'll have extra time as he pulls himself together." Consoled Jenny.

"Only a few months." Harry sounded sullen.

"Oh woe. Oh angst. Oh get over it. You aren't the center of Voldy's twisted universe." Said Jenny.

Amanda brought a loaf of fresh baked bread over to the dinner table, and set it next to the steaming corn and hot mashed potatoes. The food rested in white dishes with green and gold trim. Then Amanda sat and smiled.

"This summer is going to be great!" Said Amanda. "So how was your flight out Harry?"

"Long, boring, and filled with dull. Unlike some people who took the international port key because they are ditching the United Kingdom forever."

"Won't miss it." Jenny cut the bread into slices for everyone, using an enchanted ever-sharp knife. "It's your own fault for being such an attractive target with heroic ancestry. So much trouble over a simple squib named Potter." Jenny rolled her eyes.

"People hold grudges." Harry took a piece of bread, and started putting butter on it. "You two witches did promise to train me this summer."

Amanda's Mom came from the kitchen and set the steaming oven baked turkey on the table with a flourish. Pausing and smiling for complements, she acknowledged the exclamations before carving.

Conversation resumed.

"You'll be busy while Jen and I rock Las Vegas." Amanda gave Harry a 'thumbs up' gesture. "Yeah, your magic powers might suck, but you can be dangerous in other ways. We'll teach you. Now pass the potatoes. You don't rush hell."

Amanda's Mom frowned, and she shoved the fork into the turkey extra hard. "Dear, what have I told you about proper behavior in this house?"

"Sorry for the maniacal laugh at the table." Amanda sounded a bit guilty.

"You can torture the poor boy later, this is a celebration of Jen's move away from those bigoted maniacs." Amanda's Mom was pretty cool, but didn't care much for the Wizarding World.

-----------------------------

The promises made at the dinner table were kept, in spades.

By the end of the summer, Harry was as magically skilled as a sixth year Durmstrang dropout. He couldn't out power a determined House-Elf, but he knew how to fight. By Jenny's estimation, he had moved up from Squib to below average, not that she told Harry that.

Then came the farewells.

Harry hugged Amanda and Jenny at the same time, and held on tight, not letting go.

"Thank you, both of you. You've shown me bravery, loyalty, and ability by example. I may be a squib, but now I understand. My most powerful weapon isn't magic. It isn't a neat spell, a secret and mysterious wizarding power, or even my lineage. My greatest weapon and gift is my mind tempered by my will."

Jenny was crying. "If it gets bad, real bad, we'll help you. It's what friends are for."

"Kumori will accompany you, though I have also given her tasks. She's grown far beyond what I've envisioned, and you'll need her. Under no circumstances expose her to high magnitude magical creatures like basilisks, dragons, or nundus. They can easily destroy her."

"Shove it you weird old hag. I'll take on all comers!" Kumori assumed a fighting posture atop Harry's head, messing up his hair. She looked slutty aggressive because her outfit had been stolen from Malibu Barbie.

Amanda laughed and blasted the doll off with a wandless telekinetic bullet. Kumori flew fifty feet into the air, before popping out of the trajectory and settling down. The pecking order had been well established during summer training.

"Don't worry, kid. You've already defeated the Dark Lord Amanda Hawking in the best way – by turning a potential enemy into a devoted ally. Now go rock the pureblood incestuous British Wizarding World."

"I will." Harry looked into the distant blue sky through an airport window, resolve etched into his posture. Kumori saluted her commander from atop his head, and nodded in resolve. Without looking back, Harry boarded his plane, first class all the way, and left for his fourth year at Hogwarts.

He wore an odd metal button on his black souvenir Vegas polo sweater. An inch and a half in diameter, the button was made of Stainless Steel etched with an unusual flickering hologram. Small pink letters hovered in the air with a star field backdrop, like the introductory parts of the Star Wars movies. The enchantments on the trinket prevented muggles from realizing the technology required for creating such hologram did not yet exist. The hovering pink message scrolled through a downright sadistic saga of hardship and suffering, that ended with the phrase 'Harry Potter is now graduate of the Hawking Institute of Asskicking, may his enemies beware.'

"I'm not getting in the baggage carrier, so don't even try." Kumori sounded determined from her disillusioned perch as Harry sat in his roomy leather airline chair. International Portkey might be easier, but the Wizarding World happened to track them.

"As long as you don't crash the plane or make me late for England, I don't care how you handle yourself. Jenny and Amanda may have you leashed, but you've always been good with me. You aren't a doll, you're a person."

"I love you Harry!" Kumori kissed his forehead, hovering. "See you later." She zipped off.

During the flight back to America, Harry spent a long time in reflection. Amanda had started his training off with an American legal version of the Imperious Curse; legal only because Harry agreed with the instructions beforehand. While she was living it up in Vegas, Harry was getting in shape and training his magic.

It mainly consisted of exhausting his magic over and over again. This physical conditioning was important too, but the_ Exercitum Corporeus_ spell took only six minutes. Fifteen seconds of casting, three minutes of agony, and then the recovery. Harry could understand why cramming a day's exercise into such a short time wasn't a popular Wizarding pastime. Ripping up your own muscle tissue and letting the body build itself really hurt.

The summer had been exhausting, and the airplane flight was Harry's first long quiet period since his graduation from the Hawking Institute. During his fourth year at Hogwarts, his schedule included Ancient Runes II, Arithmancy II, Care of Magical Creatures IV, Defense Against the Dark Arts IV, Herbology IV, and Charms. What type of Charms, Harry wasn't really sure of, since he'd been in the remedial class last year. He planned on dropping both Transfiguration and Potions. Severus and Minerva were both unpleasant people. Harry briefly wondered what their children might be like.

Regardless of his classes, the reason Harry had chosen to continue with Hogwarts and not transfer into an American magical school was entirely mental. Amanda and Jenny had verified the hole in his mind surrounding his first year was beyond their abilities. Thelma Devareux, the fussy American Medi-witch specializing in memory recovery that Harry visited in late July, confirmed it. In her professional opinion, the only one who could restore his memories was the one who had taken them.

The one who took them away was Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, and Hero-in-his-own-mind. They'd learned that much from careful probing and analysis.

Harry looked at his fourth and possibly final year at Hogwarts as a coming battle, and not just against Dumbledore. Without his older friends to protect him, Harry expected the other students would try and make him find a new clique. Amanda warned him the Squib-Who-Lived as a trophy servant appealed greatly to the Slytherin worldview.

Before Harry expected it, the aircraft landed in London. He picked up his luggage, and took a taxi into the heart of London. Kumori performed a discrete shrinking charm, and Harry pocketed his belongings and headed for Diagon Alley. He did his school shopping quickly under a low profile.

No one commented on him being fourteen. Harry kept his face and distinctive forehead scar hidden under a Carolina Tarheel's visored cap, and he had grown several inches over the summer. While he did recognize several of his schoolmates and their families, Harry was more interested in beating jet lag than having a chat.

After buying his school list, Harry returned to the normal side of London, and took a room at a six star hotel for the next three days. At least he had a credit card that tapped his Gringot's Vault. Kumori bewitched the perky and flagrantly gay hotel clerk into happy compliance, since a fourteen-year-old kid having an upper level suite was unusual. The magical world might have its wonders, but it wasn't as comfortable as 24/7 room service with optional massages.

After Harry had settled himself in, Kumori left on the Vance Mission. Harry thought she was doing some advance scouting, and didn't care. When Kumori wasn't there the next morning, Harry wasn't surprised.

He spent this free time in the most constructive way possible. The massage from a very attractive brunette woman with soft hands was first rate. He couldn't help thinking that house elves had nothing on professional sexy masseuses. Because, well, flirting with a house elf? That took a sad and desperate man. Like Filch, according to malicious Hogwarts gossip.

Soon enough, the respite passed.

Kumori showed as he entered the platform for the Hogwarts Express, cracking Harry's neck by landing on his head.

"You've gotten heavier again. I take it the mission went well."

"Fine, fine. I'm nearing the size limit for elf-apparition, so I decided to become denser for now. I'll probably transform again near Christmas. If you want a report, get us privacy on the train."

Harry never did end up asking for a report, but Kumori was proud Emmaline Vance, formerly of the Order of the Phoenix, would never threaten another young magical child again. She disillusioned herself with a sigh, and settled in.

"Stop squirming. If you get too much heavier, my head is off limits." Harry boarded the Express, passing and ignoring the crowd of fashion impaired wizards and witches saying goodbyes and spouting happy nonsense.

"You don't really mean that."

He meant it. Right now though, Harry didn't feel like an argument. He felt lost. He was so used to sitting with Jenny on magical trains, that he didn't know where to go. Taking a deep breath, Harry shrugged.

So he was on his own? Big deal. He had a degree in asskicking from the best.

"Hey! I'm comfortable up here, stop it." Kumori directed a kick at his forehead.

"Whatever, I'm deciding where to sit." Harry rolled his shoulders back and forth slowly, because he could. This jiggled the passenger on head around, and ruined her comfort.

"Stop the whiny girlish angst you stupid Squib, and grab us an empty compartment." Kumori kicked his forehead harder.

"Quit it you crass violent caryatid, or I'll use the Medusa curse on myself and snakebite you off." Harry started walking. He found the first compartment he checked empty, and sat by the window.

"Feel better yet?"

"A little." Harry watched platform nine and three quarters, as more wizards and witches arrived. He could make out a faint reflection of his face in the glass, offset slightly by the pinkish light from Amanda's enchanted graduation button. That thing was destined for his school robes, same place as a prefect's badge.

"When you see Luna, let me know. I'll grab her." Kumori gestured at the compartment door, and it closed, magically locked and sealed.

Twenty minutes later, Harry spotted one of the strangest things he'd seen in the English wizarding world – a wizard who looked like he blended in perfectly with normal people. Right next to him was Luna, dragging a flashing plaid trunk on a little pink wagon.

Kumori left to collect her, unlocking the door.

Thirty seconds later, Draco Malfoy and his goons stepped inside.

While he had anticipated dealing with them, Harry didn't think it would be so soon. He'd been counting on having back-up and initiating events which hadn't happened yet.

Crabbe and Goyle blocked the door while Malfoy flounced inside, already in his black Slytherin school robes. His arrogant smirk wavered slightly when Harry didn't speak or looked pleased to see him.

"Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Slytherin house has gotten used to your obedience and support over the past few years. You'd do well to continue your mentorship under my protection."

Harry sighed, and readied himself for confrontation, shifting his weight. If Malfoy or his goons got physical, or even magical, they had a ruder surprise coming than they expected to deliver.

"Malfoy, you aren't Amanda Hawking. She's the only Slytherin I know who is worth a damn. You aren't even Jenova Hecate, the only good-for-something Hufflepuff. This year, bets are off. I don't need anyone's protection. I am not a political tool or prize."

"Are you rejecting my friendship?" Draco sounded displeased.

Harry spoke slowly, as if talking to a young child in diapers. "What you are offering isn't friendship. It's an influence ploy. If you were interested in friendship, you'd approach differently, which is why it is easy to reject you."

Crabbe and Goyle began cracking their knuckles behind Malfoy. Draco looked angry; what he'd thought a sure thing had spectacularly backfired. His expression settled into a sneer.

Before he could snarl threats or insults, Harry interrupted. "Now what you need to do is leave this compartment and rethink your approach. Because I guarantee if you are stupid enough to try something now, there is no chance of us ever being more than a normal Ravenclaw and Slytherin with the standard house animosities.

Malfoy was that stupid. He reached for his wand. Even as his hands lashed out in a practiced kung-fu throw, Harry rolled his eyes.

Before Draco could finish a syllable, he got thrown into Crabbe, and both fell into the hallway outside the compartment. Goyle started forward, but his punch turned into a painful joint lock. Harry marched his walking shield outside in front of him, with the thug on his tippy-toes. The expect hex from Malfoy stuck his own minion, and as Goyle legs started moving in the Jelly-Legs curse something popped near the goon's shoulder joint. Goyle screamed like a little girl.

This attracted the attention of someone with more authority than a bunch of fourth years, and Harry took the opportunity granted to retreat back into his compartment and close the door.

"Mr. Malfoy," stated a venomous female voice from the Hallway, "you are giving our Slytherin house a bad name by attacking your underlings in a public forum. As this year's Head Girl, I have a number of unpleasant tasks for you to undertake when we arrive at school. Daddy won't be saving your ass this time, spoiled twat."

---------------------------

Five minutes later Kumori came along with Luna in tow.

"Did you know Draco Malfoy was crying in the hallway?" Said Luna. "It must be a Widdershins Grimalkin acting up, I hear they cause a person's fingers to lock backwards. It looked like Goyle was helping Draco out of his predicament by bending back his hand. How nice of him!"

Harry smiled, his button flashing brightly on his Hogwart's robes. "So tell me about your summer, Luna."

----------------------------

After the feast, Harry made his way toward the Headmaster's room, not Ravenclaw tower. When he reached the stone gargoyle guardian, he scratched it under the chin, and whispered "Amanda says nice doggy."

The statue turned aside, revealing the staircase upwards. Without hesitation, Harry climbed and pushed open the door into Dumbledore's Office. He was pleasantly surprised to find the old man in residence, having half-expected him to be in his private warded chambers.

"You aren't denying me this, Headmaster. It is time we have a little chat, just the two of us." Harry fingered the silver Celtic cross that hung from his neck, dangling outside his black robes.

"A necklace designed to absorb mind invasions, and oh my, that is an interesting technique." Dumbledore sounded proud and impressed. "Do you believe such dark measures are really necessary?"

"It's called the Deathlock, you sanctimonious bastard. If you try forcing yourself into my mind again, it'll kill us both. I want my first year memories back!"

Dumbledore wasn't upset by the outburst; rather he smiled, looking very much the chiding grandfather. "I don't think you're ready for the truth of what those memories contain yet. While you've gotten into lots of trouble these past years, it's always been someone else who has gotten you out of it. I do feel your heart is in the right place, but you aren't ready."

"That's an empty justification." Harry watched Dumbledore closely, and the older wizard just shook his head at the hot-blooded impatience of youth.

"Harry, I'm honestly concerned you won't take the contents of those memories well. I know you think unkindly of the Wizarding World right now, in part because you've suffered discrimination based on your magical capacity."

"That's not it at all." Harry took a calming breath, and kept his body language steady. "You took what you had no right to take, for an agenda I can only speculate on. The only reason I'm here instead of the Skystar Institute in San Francisco is because I thought there was a chance of you returning my memories. If I find that chance doesn't exist, an International Portkey with my name on it is in my Gringott's Vault."

Dumbledore's brow crinkled. Inwardly he was cursing Arabella Figg, who took his monitoring money and always gave the same report. Obviously the Squib-Who-Lived hadn't spent his summer isolated in Petunia Dursley's smallest bedroom.

"Harry, I've only been thinking of your own good. If those memories mean that much to you, I'm willing to return them under certain conditions." Dumbledore sighed, knowing he'd been too complacent over a situation he'd thought appropriately delegated.

"Are you willing to swear a proper Wizarding Oath over that?" Harry put as much rancor and disbelief into his voice as he could.

"I am." Said Dumbledore. "However, if you decide Hogwarts is no longer the school for you, any unrecovered memories will be forever lost."

"I expected that." Harry nodded. "So what sort of hoops I am jumping through? You know I dropped Transfiguration and Potions from my schedule through all the official channels, and they still showed up there? Let me tell you right now, dropping Potions is non-negotiable."

"I'll let Minerva know to expect you then. It wouldn't do for a Ravenclaw to take less than seven magical subjects. I do wonder how much of this you've staged just for the purpose of avoiding Severus?"

"I don't dislike Professor Snape anymore than the average student, Headmaster. Now, I'd like your oath to be very explicit about the conditions for my memory return. Here is a rough draft I've prepared in advance, do look it over." Harry removed a scroll from his robes, and handed it over.

Dumbledore didn't even glance at the scroll, just placed it on his desk. "I'm sure it's very well thought out Harry, but I don't have the time for searching a long meandering document for loopholes. I'll look it over, and maybe next month we can have another get together?"

"Actually Headmaster, it's remarkably simple. One paragraph. No tricks. You'll read it, and perform the oath now, because I know you want me here, under your thumb."

Several portraits of former Headmasters started berating Harry for trying to dictate terms to a man who was his better. Dumbledore could have silenced them, but chose not to. Phineas Nigellus was proud of the amount of tears his words caused; one waterworks per three lectures was his average.

Dumbledore slowly reached down and opened the scroll, enjoying how his predecessor kept calling Harry Potter a 'Damned Dumb Squib lucky to have magical education.' He was pleasantly surprised.

"That's enough Phineas." Said Dumbledore. "Mr. Potter, while I do object to the manner you've employed for the result, I cannot find fault with this oath. I will swear it."

Harry didn't smile, and drew out his Holly wand. It had been too easy.

"I Dumbledore do swear to return to Harry Potter the memories missing from the start of his first year. I will return them when he graduates from his seventh year here, or when he performs a solo action of extreme heroism or difficulty, showing his mettle as a true wizard."

"I Harry Potter do swear to continue attending Hogwarts as long as Headmaster Dumbledore holds my memories hostage."

The oaths were sworn, and Harry had his proof of heroism planned -- winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament. However he really didn't like how Dumbledore told him he should have been sorted into Gryffindor. Member of that house were foolishly stupid in the face of overwhelming odds. Harry knew he'd miscalculated.

As Harry Potter left, Dumbledore smiled. The damaging memories revolved about what happened _before_ Harry began his first year. He no longer had to worry about The-Squib-Who-Lived becoming so dangerously independent that he abandoned his proper Hogwarts education.

------------------

AN: This chapter was sitting on my hard drive, almost complete. I finished it, edited, and here it is. I have very interesting plans for the fourth year, provided I ever get around to writing it.


End file.
